While She Slept
by H.G. Stewart
Summary: Tracking down a missing teenage girl is usually just a day's work for the Hardy Brothers, but this time, it becomes personal in a most unusual way.
1. Chapter 1

**Unbelieveable!" Joe Hardy muttered, hitting the off button on the cordless telephone and practically slamming it down on the table.**

**Frank Hardy, his older brother, looked up at him without emotion. Joe's outburst was part of his personality and while it sometimes startled other people, Frank had become accustomed to it over the years.**

**"Care to talk about it?" Frank asked.**

**Joe held his hands out to the phone as if he were calling attention to the current prize on a game show.**

**"Cory Sutton! I call Vanessa to invite her to the movies and she tells me that she already has a date tonight….with Cory Sutton!"**

**"Cory Sutton? Hmmmm..." Frank replied, rubbing a finger across his lips in thought. "Isn't Cory that new guy in school? The one that beat you out to become captain of the football team?"**

**Joe's face turned red with anger. He walked across the family room and plopped down in the leather recliner, slamming his fist down on the arm.**

**It took a great effort on Frank's part to hide the smile that so desperately wanted to escape.**

**"Oh, don't start pouting, Joe. After all, aren't you the one who told Vanessa that while you still wanted to date her, that the two of you should expand your circle and date others?"**

**"I only agreed to it because Vanessa threw a fit when she found out we were going to Disneyworld! You'd think a guy could take a little vacation every now and then." Joe retorted, leaning forward to adjust a pillow behind him.**

**"Well can you blame her Joe? From what I can remember it's been at least three months since the two of you have been out on an actual planned date. Most girls I know expect to taken out a little more often than that."**

**"Well is it my fault that we're out of town on cases so much? It's not like Bayport is the crime center of the world. Even if it were, Chief Collig would work day and night just to keep us out of what he considers police business!"**

**"Point taken." Frank replied. "But because we are out of town so much, does that mean Vanessa is supposed to just sit at home twiddling her thumbs waiting for you? I mean, I'm surprised Callie hasn't become discouraged yet, and we've been dating for three years."**

**Joe glared at Frank and threw his hands up in the air. "Well that's why I agreed for us to see other people!"**

**"Then why are you mad?"**

**"Joe had a look of shock on his face, suddenly realizing that he had just validated Vanessa's date.**

**He leaned back and crossed his arms again. "Well I didn't expect her to start dating THIS quickly. _I_ haven't even shown interest in anyone else yet!"**

**"Oh, and I suppose that girl at Epcot Center was just a mirage, huh?" Frank smiled.**

**"I don't know what you're talking about!" Joe retorted.**

**"Oh, you remember, that Norwegian girl that was working in World Showcase? Greta, I believe was her name?"**

**"We just talked a little while." Joe replied.**

**"A little while? May I remind you that while you were talking 'a little while', I spent an hour and a half in line to ride Maelstrom, and by the time I walked out you two had already planned a date to the Disney Marketplace for that evening?"**

**"It was just a friendly get together, nothing serious."**

**"Oh sure." Frank nodded his head. "Nothing serious."**

**"Nope. No more than those friendly get togethers you sometimes have with a certain young lady from River Heights. Care to invite Callie over so we can talk about them?"**

**Frank stared at his brother. "Those aren't friendly get togethers, Joe, it's usually when we're working on cases together. There's no need to upset Callie over nothing."**

**"Oh sure." Joe grinned. "It's nothing."**

**Now it was Frank's turn to glare at Joe. He was interrupted again, this time by the doorbell.**

**Joe got up and walked toward the door. "Getting back to the original point, I've decided that dating other people is not such a good idea. Vanessa's the only girl I'm interested in. I'm going to call her tonight and see if we can straighten this mess out."**

**Joe opened the door. He stood there a moment then suddenly started grinning as he subtuly sucked in his stomach-not that it was necessary.**

**Frank craned his neck to see what had caught Joe's attention. Unable to see who was standing there, he got up and stood beside his brother.**

**"Hi! You must be the Hardy brothers, right?" The girl asked, flashing them a smile.**

**"At your service." Joe replied, maintaining the grin.**

**Frank rolled his eyes. "I'm Frank Hardy, the drooling jerk standing here is my baby brother Joe."**

**Joe shot Frank a stern sidelong glance and punched him in the ribs with his elbow. He then turned to the girl and began grinning again.**

**"My name is Michelle Ingraham. I'd like to talk to you about something. Do you mind if I come in?"**

**"Please do." Frank replied as he and Joe made way for her to enter the house. Moments later, the three were seated in the family room.**

**Having declined refreshments, Michelle began to shift uncomfortably as Joe gazed at her. Frank could see why. Even in jeans, hiking boots, and a turtleneck, she was stunning. She tucked her long brown hair behind her ear and looked at Frank with some of the prettiest blue eyes he had ever seen.**

**"What can we do for you?" Frank asked, breaking Joe's concentration.**

**"Well, I was hoping that you could help me. You see, I'm trying to find my mother."**

**"Your mother?" Frank asked in a tone that told Michelle that he wanted her to continue.**

**"Yes, well more specifically my family history. My mother died shortly after I was born and I'd like to trace my family roots, see if I have a grandma or an aunt out there somewhere."**

**"How much information do you already have?" Joe asked.**

**"Very little, actually." Michelle continued, pulling a slip of paper out of the backpack she carried. "I've got a copy of my birth certificate here. According to this, her name was Caroline Ingraham. That's about as much information as I have. The copy isn't even a very good quality. See? Her maiden name has some smudging on it, making it illegible."**

**Frank took the paper from her. "This copy seems rather old." He remarked.**

**"It is. I think it's the original copy given to my father when I left the hospital." Michelle replied. She sighed and looked at them with sad eyes. "I've repeatedly tried to get my father to give me some information on my mother, but it is hopeless. I don't know why he is so secretive, but he refuses to let me know anything about her family, not even their names. If nothing else, I'd like to at least know where she is buried so I can visit the grave."**

**"Have you tried searching the cemeteries in your hometown?" Joe asked.**

**Michelle gave a short, non-humorous chuckle. "I don't have an official hometown. We've moved fifteen times in as many years. I've lived everywhere from Canada to Florida to Texas."**

**Frank didn't know quite how to ask the next question, but he knew it was necessary. "Why do you think that is? Is it possible your father may have had something to do with the death of your mother?"**

**Michelle looked down. "I can't deny that I haven't thought of that myself. But it just seems impossible. Dad is such a loving person." She looked back up. "But I'm tired of all of the secrets, I have to know something."**

**"Have you tried any search methods on your own?" Joe asked.**

**"Not yet. My father has always talked about you and your family, so naturally I came to you first when I decided to start searching."**

**"Do we know your father?" Frank asked.**

**"His name is Albert. Albert Ingraham." Michelle replied.**

**Joe shook his head. "That name doesn't sound familiar to me. But then again, Dad knows so many people that we don't from his days in the NYPD."**

**"To be honest, I'm don't think Dad and I had ever discussed how he came to know your family. I can remember him talking about your father and especially your aunt Gertrude a lot."**

**"Maybe they were old childhood friends." Frank suggested.**

**Before anyone had a chance to comment on the theory, the telephone rang. Frank held up a finger to indicate that he would be back momentarily.**

**"Hello?" Frank asked after picking up the cordless.**

**"Oh good, Frank, it's you." Came the reply as Frank recognized the unmistakable voice of the Gray Man. "Something's come up and we desperately need the help of you and your brother. If you'll turn on your computer, I've sent you a coded message that will explain the details. I'll book your airline tickets and arrange for a courier to deliver them to you. You leave tonight."**

**"Wait a minute!" Frank replied, stepping out of earshot of Joe and Michelle. "You can't just expect us to jump up and take off at a moments notice."**

**"I'm sorry, Frank, but you knew when you were offered the job with our agency that it would mean making some sacrifices." The Gray Man insisted.**

**"What you seem to forget sometimes is that Joe and I are still in high school, and live at home with parents who have no clue that we are involved in your organization."**

**The Gray Man paused. "Okay, I understand you may have a problem, but do you think there is any way at all you can take an assignment right now? If you will decode the message, I think you'll appreciate the urgency of the situation."**

**Frank sighed. He knew the situation _must_ be urgent for the Gray Man to be so insistent, considering that the federal agent would rather they not be a part of the Network.**

**"Okay. I'll talk to Joe. We'll be in touch."**

**The two exchanged some final words before Frank finally hung up and walked back into the family room.**

**"I was just telling Michelle that we would be more than happy to help her." Joe smiled. "Good thing our slate was clean huh?"**

**"Well, I'm afraid things have changed." Frank replied, an urgent tone to his voice. "I just got off the phone with-Edward."**

**Joe simply nodded as he recognized the first name of the Gray Man. As he glanced back at Michelle, however, Frank could tell that he looked disappointed.**

**"Michelle, I'm sorry." Frank apologized. "It seems something that really needs our attention has come up. I'll give you a few resources you can use that may help you out on your research. If you turn up empty handed, please call us back. As soon as we deal with the matter at hand, we'll be glad to help you."**

**Having noticed Frank's urgent tone, Michelle stood up to leave. She looked disappointed, but smiled. "I understand. I read the newspapers enough to know that the two of you stay busy."**

**Frank held up her birth certificate. "If you don't mind, I'll make a copy of this and try to do a little research if any spare time should crop up."**

**"Sounds good." Michelle replied.**

**Moments later, Frank returned from his fathers study with Michelle's original birth certificate and another paper. "This is the list I was telling you about." He handed the paper to Michelle. "It includes several website addresses where you can do name searches as well as the names of a couple of agencies we've used ourselves in past cases. A good starting point would be for you to go back to the hospital where you were born and find out where you can pick up a legible copy of your birth certificate."**

**Michelle took the paperwork and thanked him. She then showed herself to the door.**

**"Wait a minute." Joe said as she stepped out on the front stoop. Michelle turned around to look at him. Joe smiled as strands of her long hair blew across her face.**

**"Don't forget to leave your number so we can call you as soon as we are free."**

**"I'm sorry but I can't. My dad would throw a fit if he knew I contacted you about this. I'll just use the resources you've given me and if I don't turn up anything, I'll be the one to call you in a few weeks. Perhaps you'll be free by then."**

**With another smile, Michelle turned and headed down the walk. Joe had no choice but to close the door. Frank shook his head as Joe parted the curtain on the window just enough to watch her.**

**So, tell me more about how Vanessa's the only girl you're interested in." Frank smiled. He received a stern look from Joe. "She wouldn't let you have her phone number huh?"**

**"No. She was probably offended because you practically shoved her out the door!"**

**Frank shook his head. "There's a message from the Network. We should go see what it is."**

**"I'll be there in a minute." Joe replied, leaving Frank to walk upstairs by himself.**

**'Frank, your commitment to the Network's killing me'. Joe thought as he watched Michelle loop her backpack onto a bicycle and mount it. 'If I'd had a little more time I could at least have offered to buy her lunch or something.'**

**Michelle had barely begun to pedal off when a cab approached from the opposite direction. When it reached Michelle, it stopped and a middle aged man got out. The two stood talking for a few moments before the driver popped the trunk open and Michelle started putting her bike in.**

**"If Vanessa is going to date, then I might as well to. This may be my last chance with Michelle." Joe thought. He opened the door and started walking out to the cab.**

**"Michelle!" He called out waving to her.**

**The man whispered something in her ear and she turned around. "I can't talk right now, Joe. Something's come up and I'm in a hurry."**

**She shut the trunk and walked around where the man stood holding the door open for her. Joe hadn't ignored the ugly sneer on his face.**

**After Michelle got into the cab, Joe bent down and looked inside at her. "Michelle, I was just wondering if..."**

**He stopped short when he glanced to the side and noticed that the man had a gun pointed at Michelle, his hand hidden underneath the trench coat that was draped around his shoulders.**

**The man instantly knew that Joe was on to him. Before Joe had a chance to react, the man curled his free hand into a fist and delivered a firm punch in the middle of Joe's face. Joe fell flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him.**

**Michelle opened her mouth to scream but had barely begun when the man turned with lightning reflexes. His hand came down heavily on her temple, knocking her out. He reached down and pushed her unconscious body to the other side of the backseat before climbing in himself.**

**All Joe could do was lay on his back and attempt to catch his breath as the cab sped off into the distance.**


	2. Chapter 2

Joe lay there gasping, unable to take in any air. As panic began to set in, he had to mentally calm himself and concentrate on breathing.

It only took a few seconds for him to command his lungs to take in and release air. Soon his feeling of panic began to subside. He took several more deep breaths then started trying to get up.

"Joe! Are you alright?" Frank shouted, rushing up to his side. He let out a small gasp and quickly plucked a tissue that happened to be in his pocket.

It wasn't until Frank crammed the tissue under his brother's nose and tilted his head back that Joe realized he had a nosebleed.

"Come on, I'll help you into the house." Frank advised, putting an arm around Joe's back.

"No!" Joe exclaimed, brushing him off. Someone's kidnapped Michelle! We have to go after them!"

"What?!" Frank exclaimed. Without waiting for an answer, he rushed for the van, knowing that Joe would explain on the way.

Soon the brothers were on the road, following the easiest path out of the neighborhood. Joe filled Frank in on everything he had seen in a squeaky voice as he applied pressure to his swelling nose.

"I wonder why anyone would want to kidnap Michelle?" Joe wondered aloud.

"Who knows? Maybe her father found out what she had been doing and was upset."

"Her father? Holding a gun on her and knocking her out?" Joe asked in disbelief.

Frank had to admit the theory was farfetched. "Did you happen to get the license plate, or the number of that cab?"

"No, I was busy with trivial things at the time, like trying to get oxygen into my lungs." Joe smirked as he continued to pinch his nose.

They continued to drive fifteen minutes or so, but finally slowed their speed as it became obvious that the kidnappers had gotten away.

"What now?" Joe asked as Frank made a beeline for downtown Bayport.

"We'll go to the cab company. It seems that at least one person who works for them might be involved in the kidnapping."

A little while later, Frank was rapping on the door of the manager's office at the cab company.

"What can I do for you?" The manager asked, looking oddly at Joe's bloody shirt and swollen nose. "Don't need any drivers right now."

"That's okay, we're not looking for a job. We were just wondering if you could tell us the name of a cab driver who might be working a certain area." Frank inquired, looking at the nameplate on the desk that read Ray Dennison.

"Why do you want to know?" Mr. Dennison asked.

"One of your drivers picked up a young lady this evening and..." Frank began.

Mr. Dennison held up his had. "...and you want to know where he took her." The brothers nodded. Dennison looked at Joe. "I think I'd find another girlfriend, kid. One who wouldn't leave me in that kind of condition after a fight."

Frank smiled as Joe rubbed his nose uncomfortably. Dennison turned around in his swivel chair to pick up some paperwork. "Although I do assign my guys to certain areas, I couldn't pinpoint a driver for you. Because the passengers can and do request to go anywhere, any of my guys could be anywhere in town at any given time.

Dennison turned back around and saw the disappointed look on their faces. "However, you're in luck. I've asked the guys to log all pick up addresses this week so that I can dispatch the drivers to the areas where they are needed most. All the drivers that are out there right now should have their logs turned in by 10:00pm tonight. If you would like to leave the address where she was picked up, I can check the records"

Frank gave the manager his home address and asked if he could check back later that night for the name of the driver. Dennison then advised them that his shift ended before ten but that he would have the evening manager give them the information when they called.

Soon Frank and Joe were in the van again.

"Any more ideas?" Joe asked.

After a long silence, Frank shook his head. "Talking to the driver will be our best lead. In the meantime, I need to get back home and finish decoding the message from the Network. I just hope that Mom and Dad haven't come home yet and walked into my room. I had just started decoding the message when I heard the commotion outside and rushed downstairs. If they were to see what I have decoded so far, we would probably have a lot of explaining to do."

The ride home was uneventful. Frank pulled up to the house and discovered that in the short time they had been away, his mother's, father's, and aunt's cars had all appeared in the driveway.

Frank walked to the front door, followed by Joe. They were met by a hostile Aunt Gertrude.

"Frank and Joe Hardy! How dare you boys take off and leave the front door standing wide open? Why, anyone could have walked in here and gone through our things. This house is outfitted with thousands of dollars in electronics, not to mention sentimental valuables like your grandmother's good silver. And your father! What would he say if someone had come in here and gained access to his criminal records?"

"Calm down, Gertrude. I'm sure the boys have a valid explanation." Laura said, interrupting her sister-in-law's tirade. It was then that Joe stepped out from behind Frank and she got a good look at him. She gasped and put a hand over her mouth. "Joe! What happened?"

"I'm fine mom, really." Joe replied. He then proceeded to give her the abbreviated version of the events that took place that afternoon.

"Oh my! That poor young girl. I wonder why that man kidnapped her? Have you called the police?"

"The only thing the police would do right now is talk to the cab company, which we've already done." Frank advised. "Besides, we don't know the true motive of the kidnapper. We'd better keep quiet in case he calls us with demands."

Laura was not satisfied that her sons refused to involve the police, but it was not the first time she had felt that way. After confirming for herself that Joe was going to be okay, Laura announced that she was going into the kitchen to prepare supper. "I'd think you would feel better if you took a shower before dinner, Joe. I know for a fact that you would certainly look better."

"I will, Mom." Joe promised as she turned to walk into the kitchen, followed by Gertrude.

"I'm telling you Laura, if those were my boys, I would never allow them to do all of this detective work. It's coming to a point where they can't even stand in their own front yard without being attacked. Why if I had a child..."

Frank and Joe bound up the stairs, glad to be out of earshot of their aunt but feeling sorry for their mother who was still being subjected to her tirade. Frank pushed the door to his bedroom open and was relieved to find his computer the way he left it before he had responded to the attack.

As Frank continued to decode the message, Joe took his shower. Feeling better, he turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his waste. His good feeling was quickly spent when he looked in the mirror.

His nose was slowly darkening to an unsightly blue color, and the swelling hadn't gone down any. Joe estimated that it would take a good two weeks for evidence of the attack to diminish.

He opened the door that led to Frank's bedroom and stepped out. The cool dry air that met him was a sharp contrast to the warm humid environment he had just left.

"What did you find out?" Joe asked, staring at Frank's computer.

Frank's response was to laugh out loud. "Have you considered a career in singing?"

"Why?" Joe asked.

"All you need to do is find Simon and Theodore and you've got yourself a record deal."

"Hey! I'm supposed to be the prankster around here." Joe responded, listening to his chipmunk like voice that resulted from his swollen nose and draining sinuses. Frank laughed even harder.

"Okay, you've had your fun. What's the big emergency?" Joe asked.

Frank calmed down and began staring at the screen again. "To be honest with you, I don't know. Evidently the Network's started using a new coding system that no one bothered to share with us. The little that I've managed to decode is telling me nothing."

A rap on the door interrupted their concentration. Frank quickly shut down the program as Joe ran into his room to dress.

"Frank?" Fenton asked, opening the door wide enough to stick his head in the room.

"Hi Dad." Frank replied.

"Where's Joe? He didn't answer my knock."

"Oh, he was over here, but he ran back to his room to get dressed. He had just got out of the shower."

"I need to talk to both of you right away. Give him a minute to dress then ask him to come with you to my study."

"Ok Dad." Frank replied as Fenton shut the door. Frank gave Joe the time he needed to dress then walked through the bathroom to Joe's room. "Dad needs to see us." He informed his brother.

Joe threw the towel he had been using to dry his hair on the floor and followed Frank to his father's study.

"Shut the door behind you." Fenton instructed when they appeared in the doorway.

Joe closed the door and sat down next to Frank in a chair that faced his father's desk.

"Where did this come from?" Fenton asked, holding up a piece of paper.

"What is it?" Frank asked.

"I found it on the copy machine. It's a birth certificate."

"Oh, that." Frank repeated the events of the afternoon to his father, who sat listening with interest.

"She mentioned that you knew her father." Joe added.

"Albert Ingraham, according to the birth certificate. Yes, I knew him." Fenton shut his eyes and put his hand on his forehead as if he had a headache.

"Dad? You alright?" Frank asked with concern.

Fenton didn't answer, but instead turned to gain access to his safe from which he pulled a manila folder. Out of that folder, he pulled a yellowing sheet of folded paper.

"Boys, we must find this girl. I think I have the answer she is looking for, and if I'm right, it will greatly affect all of our lives."

"How so Dad?" Frank asked. "We don't even know her."

"Take a look at this. You'll find that this little piece of paper will both answer and create many questions."

Frank took the paper as Joe read over his shoulder. After a few minutes, they looked at their father, a look of shock on both of their faces.

"Dad, it can't be true!" Frank exclaimed.

"It can." Fenton nodded. "And it is."


	3. Chapter 3

Caroline?" Albert shouted as he opened the door to the seemingly empty apartment. He closed the door behind him and hung his coat on the rack, assuming that he was alone.

"Surprise!" Caroline exclaimed. As Albert jumped, having been startled, Caroline rushed into his arms.

"How was your day, Mr. Hall?" Caroline smiled, planting a kiss on her husband's lips.

"Bad, until now." He smiled, returning the kiss as he took her hand and admired the wedding ring he had placed on her finger just weeks before. " I was worried that you might not be here."

"Mom is sitting with Dad at the hospital tonight." Caroline sighed. "I tried to talk her into letting me stay, but she insists on spending every spare moment with Dad. It's tough on her, you know, realizing that he has such a short time to live."

Albert held her hands. "Sweetheart, you're father could go any day. Don't you think he should know?"

Caroline sighed again. "We've been over this, Albert. Sick or not, Dad would go crazy if he knew we were married. You know how he feels about our religious differences. He doesn't think I'm even seeing you, much less married to you. I don't want him to worry during his last days. I'll tell Mom as soon as he's gone. I promise."

Albert looked into her eyes. "Will you? You know your mom would be alone then, with your father passed and you finally moving in with me. Do you think she could handle having an empty nest all at once?"

Caroline shrugged. "We'll think of something. Maybe you could move into Mom's house, and I could stay there with her. Besides, even if I do move out, I don't think it would surprise her. I'm 31 years old for heaven's sake!"

"And a wife going on 4 weeks now." Albert reminded her. "I for one am ready to start playing the part of husband by us actually living together."

Caroline rubbed her husband's back. "I appreciate your patience. I adore my father and it would kill me to know that I made his final days miserable."

"I'm sorry that your father seems to hate me so much." Albert remarked.

"Not you, just the difference in beliefs." Caroline corrected him.

"Well, you know your own family best." Albert smiled at her. "Enough of this. How about we go out for a nice dinner? All that time you've been spending at the hospital lately is beginning to take a toll on you."

Caroline smiled. "Dinner sounds wonderful! Can we go to Santos in New York?"

"Sure. A change of scenery will do you good." Albert replied, retrieving his coat once again. Caroline grabbed her own coat and purse and allowed him to lead her outside and to the car.

"That was delicious." Albert commented, patting his stomach. He looked across the table at his wife's plate of fettuccini alfredo, which had barely been touched. "Something wrong with your food, sweetheart?"

Caroline was staring at the drifting snow that fell outside, trimming out the festively decorated New York City street. Christmas was less than a week away.

"Huh? Oh no, I'm just not that hungry. Seems a lot of the food I've been eating the past few days is coming right back up anyway."

"You're not getting sick are you?" Albert asked with concern.

"I don't think so." Caroline replied, taking a bite that was more for the sake of satisfying Albert than it was for want of the food. " Other than that I'm just a little more tired than usual. I'm sure it's just the stress of looking after Dad."

"Well you better not overdo it. It's not going to do anyone any good for you to end up in the hospital too."

"I won't." Caroline replied, smiling and holding his outstretched hand.

Albert glanced out at the snow himself. "It seems to be getting worse. If you're ready to leave, I'll go out and start the car so it'll be nice and toasty when you get in. It's an hour's drive back home under the best of circumstances. Hope the storm will hold out."

Caroline nodded in agreement. Albert gave her some money to pay the bill and walked out to the garage where the car was parked.

When he got there, he found a large truck parked next to his car. It took some doing for him to maneuver himself between the vehicles without brushing up against the truck.

"Could he have parked any closer to me?" Albert muttered to himself as he looked down and noticed that the truck's tires had crossed the line that separated the parking spaces. It was then that he noticed something else.

"Alright!" Albert exclaimed. Lying on the concrete was a twenty-dollar bill.

Albert reached down to pluck up his treasure and quickly found that it was partially wedged underneath one of the truck's tires.

"With a little wiggling, I can get that out." Albert convinced himself. He bent down and began working on the project, paying little attention to the car that had entered the garage.

The car circled the garage and practically came to a halt right behind Albert's car. As he continued to crouch, he listed as two doors opened, wondering why the driver hadn't bothered to find a space.

"Is the coast clear?" And ugly voice asked

"Seems to be." An even uglier voice responded. "Get him out."

Albert quickly forgot about the money as he heard the sound of someone being forced out of the car. Not wanting to be seen, he stayed in his crouched position.

"Okay Phillips, we've given you a nice long car ride, complete with plenty of fresh air to help clear your head. Now let's hear the right answer."

Albert heard the unmistakable sound of a pistol being cocked, ready to fire. He risked a peek through the car windows and watched as the gunman pointed his weapon at the victim's head, assisted by an accomplice who stood behind the victim.

"I don't understand." The victim replied with what seemed like genuine confusion. "Why should I resign as mayor of New York City? I've only been in office for two months, and I've already made several improvements."

"Because you stole my father's job, that's why!" The gunman shouted as the mayor looked at him in shock, realizing who he was. "He held office for twenty five years before you came along and beat him out with your bogus campaign promises. It's because of you that he killed himself. If it weren't for you, he would still be alive and in office and my mother wouldn't be crying her eyes out every night. No, you're not keeping the job, Mr. high and mighty. Anybody else can have it. Anybody but you."

Albert was shocked when the thin, middle-aged man called his bluff. "Go ahead and shoot me. You're in the middle of the largest city in the USA. There's a cop on every corner. As soon as one hears the shot they'll be here to return the favor faster than you can say 911."

"Rich, I don't think he's going to resign." His accomplice assured him.

Rich stood with his finger on the trigger, while the mayor stared back at him coolly. It was clear that the mayor had at least given him something to think about.

"What are you doing?" Rich asked in nervous anger as his frustrated accomplice began untying the mayor. When he was finished, he held up the rope.

"Silent, and it doesn't leave bloodstains." The accomplice pointed out, slightly squeezing his neck with a beefy hand.

Seeing the rope in the corner of his eye, it was the mayor's turn to worry. "Look, gentlemen, I..."

He stopped when he saw the crazed look in Rich's eye. Rich took the rope from his accomplice and, stuffing the gun into the waist of his pants, began stretching it out. With amazing reflexes, the mayor jerked his hands and managed to free them from the grip of the accomplice. He then broke into an amazing sprint despite the suit and dress shoes he was wearing.

"Get him!" Rich shouted as he and his accomplice chased the mayor. As Albert peeked around the corner of the truck he was disheartened to see that the mayor had tripped. In no time he heard the sickening sound of the mayor gasping for air as the rope was tightened around his neck. Considering the fact that he was enclosed by the cement walls of the garage, and that the gun-laden accomplice glanced around nervously for signs of approaching witnesses, Albert was helpless to offer assistance without becoming a victim himself.

After a few moments, all was quiet.

"Is he dead?" The accomplice asked.

"I don't feel a pulse." Albert heard Rich reply. We better get him out of site before someone shows up.

Albert was almost afraid to breathe as the two passed his hiding spot once again, dragging the body behind them. As they neared a parked car, Albert listened as the trunk was unlocked and the body was dropped inside.

"Here comes someone!" The accomplice announced nervously.

There was a pause as the criminals observed the potential witness. The only sounds that could be heard was that of the trunk door slamming shut followed by the click click click of a pair of heels.

"Just some dame." Rich replied.

Albert's heart leapt into his throat. It must be Caroline coming out to the car!

"What should we do?" The accomplice asked.

Albert held his breath, waiting for the answer. "Just get into the car and wait for her to leave. She's too far away to have seen anything."

As he heard the criminals opening the car doors, Albert quickly thrust his key into the door, unlocking it. Watching again through the car windows, he slipped inside and waited until they slammed their doors, slamming his at the same time. He relaxed a little when they gave no indication that they had heard him.

Once inside, he quickly laid the passenger seat down and crawled across the middle to lay in it. "Please, Caroline." He whispered aloud. "Please just play along."

Moments later Caroline appeared at the passenger side door. She noticed her husband lying there and pulled on the handle. Finding that the door was still fastened, she rapped on the window. Albert stayed in his position and pointed to the driver's side.

Caroline gave him a confused look. Still, she marched around the car and slid into the driver's seat. "Albert, what are you doing? I thought you were coming out to warm up the car."

"Never mind. Just drive us out of here." Albert replied sternly.

"Why are you lying back like that?"

"For once in your life, don't ask questions, just do what I say. I'll explain later." Albert replied with urgency. "Now start up the car and drive away."

Caroline shrugged her shoulders and fastened her seatbelt. She took Albert's keys and started the engine.

Once Caroline had began pulling out of the garage, Albert raised his head just enough to observe the car where the criminals sat. He risked a sigh of relief as the car remained motionless. It wasn't until Caroline had driven eight blocks that Albert felt comfortable enough to return the seat to an upright position.

"Now would you like to explain to me why you're acting so strange?" Caroline insisted as she crossed the Brooklyn Bridge.

Albert started to reply when the car directly behind them flashed it's brights. He turned his head and was horrified to see the car from the garage! If they weren't sure before, they knew now that Caroline hadn't been alone!

"That car behind us is after me. You've got to try to lose it!" Albert ordered.

"Why? What's going on Albert?" Caroline pleaded.

"I'll explain later." Was Albert's short reply.

The little amount of speed that Caroline put on the car did nothing to shake the pursuers. "The roads are icing up!" She announced as her eyes watered with tears.

"You've got to try harder!" Albert exclaimed. As if to emphasize his point, he placed his left foot on her right one, pressing down. The accelerator sunk to the floor.

Albert was not at all surprised by the reaction of the pursuing car. The brights which continuously bore into the back of his head was all the proof he needed that Rich and his partner were not giving up.

Several cars honked their horns as Caroline swerved in and out of traffic at a speed that was considered dangerous even under the best of circumstances. She gasped as the car slid dangerously on a patch of ice, which had formed on the bridge.

As she cleared the bridge, the ice patch ended and she was able to steady the wobbly car. "Albert, we're coming up to a red light, what should I do?"

Albert didn't hear her as he continued to glance out the back window, watching Rich's ever move. He realized that anyone who was crazy enough to kill the mayor of New York City would think nothing of killing him, too. As Rich sped up once again, Albert instinctively forced Caroline's foot down on her accelerator as well.

"Albert!" She screamed. She pressed fiercely on the brake pedal. As the tires squealed, Albert quickly jerked his head around.

The last thing he saw was the side of a city bus as the car slammed into it full force!

Almost a year later, a young rookie walked into the headquarters of the NYPD. Wiping sweat from his brow, he walked over to the water cooler and filled a cup for himself.

"Rough day?" Officer Meadows asked, walking up to him and slapping him on the back.

"I don't care if it is snowing outside. Chasing a thug six blocks in a full uniform and overcoat can even make Christmastime feel like a day in the Sahara." The rookie replied, downing the rest of his water.

"Well how would you feel if I told you your day was about to get better?" Meadows smiled.

"How so?" The rookie asked breathing heavily after finishing his water.

Meadows looked at him. "Your sister is alive."

The rookie stopped breathing and crushed the paper cup in his hand. "My sister?" It was impossible. She had died in a car accident a year earlier, along with Albert, a man she had been dating. "That's not funny, Gary."

"I know what you're thinking. But believe me it's true. Go to the chief. He will explain."

The rookie stood looking at his colleague for a moment, then, without saying a word, turned and walked to the chief's office. He peered inside at Chief Mitchell, who motioned for him to come inside and close the door.

"Chief, my sister is alive?" The rookie prompted, an echo of disbelief in his voice.

The chief nodded, looking ashamed. "I'm sorry that you weren't informed sooner, but it was a matter of safety."

The chief could see that the rookie wasn't convinced.

"Let me try to explain. Do you remember when the mayor was murdered? It was almost a year ago."

The rookie shook his head. "I remember that it was the same day that my sister died in that car accident, but not many of the details. I was still working as a security guard at the time and didn't keep up with police matters. "

The chief nodded his understanding. "The mayor was strangled to death by Rich Herringbone, the son of the former mayor. Rich blamed his father's death on the mayor. Former mayor Herringbone had killed himself as a result of losing the election. He had been in office for many years."

The rookie nodded as the chief continued. "Although Rich thought that there had been no witnesses to the murder, there was one in hiding. It was Albert."

"What?" The rookie exclaimed in disbelief.

"The car accident resulted from your sister's attempt to outrun the criminals." The chief went on to explain the details of the witnessing and chase.

"The truth of the matter is, Albert did not die in that accident and it was his testimony in the trial against Herringbone that will ensure that he remains in prison for many years to come."

"So you're telling me that both my sister, and Albert, are alive?" The rookie felt his fists begin to involuntarily clinch in anger. "If Albert Ingraham is alive and healthy enough to testify in a court of law, then why has he failed to come to my mother and I and let us know that my sister was alive? Better yet why didn't she tell us?"

"Because she's been in a coma all this time. She just came out of it yesterday."

The rookie paused a moment, allowing the news to sink in. "Does my mother know?" He finally asked.

The chief nodded. "She's at the hospital with her now. The doctors are confident that your sister will make a full recovery. Her memory in completely intact. As for Albert telling you, we wouldn't let him." The chief replied. As the rookie sat there in silent confusion, he continued. "Although Herringbone was crazy, he had an impressive group of followers. I guess that happens if you have enough money. He controls them even behind bars. He can tell them to do anything. Steal, kidnap, murder, you name it, then its only the matter of another phone call and his puppets are paid." The chief stopped to take a sip of coffee. "The only way we were able to get our testimony, and protect Albert at the same time, was to enter him in the Witness Protection Program. Mind you, Herringbone's followers know that he is still alive, but Albert agreed to the testimony and the program only under the condition that his family be told that he had died, so that they could feel a sense of closure. We abided by his wishes."

"And Herrinbone's gang, what do they know about my sister?" The rookie asked.

"Considering the circumstances, we decided it would be for the best to have her declared legally dead as well. We left her in the hospital and gave her a fictitious name, Susan Rice. Apparently the trick worked because the staff reported that she never received any visitors, suspicious or otherwise."

Tears flowed freely from the rookie's eyes as all of this new information sunk in. "That would explain how the hospital 'accidentally' had my sister's body cremated!"

The chief looked down. "I'm sorry about that, but naturally we couldn't produce a body so we had to think of something else to tell your family. Honestly, we would have told you sooner, but we wanted to allow enough time to pass so that any suspicions Herringbone's followers may have had would not be validated. Besides, we never expected her to come out of the coma, so I didn't feel there was any need in re-opening old wounds."

The rookie sat in silence again as the chief continued. "If you would like to take your sister home, I think you will be safe at this point. She has been thought to be dead almost a year now, and I don't think Herringbones friends will be looking for her, at least not back in your hometown. With her husband 'dead', however, I would encourage her to re-assume her maiden name as they would not be likely to trace her to it."

"I think you're mistaken, Chief, Albert was never married to my sister."

The chief stared at him for a moment then picked up his phone. Moments later his secretary entered the room and handed him a manilla folder. "Perhaps you should see this." He said handing the folder to the rookie. "These objects were removed from the car shortly after the accident. Normally they would have been sent to your family, but thanks to the uniqueness of the situation, we kept everything for ourselves. "

The rookie thumbed through the folder. He didn't see anything very unusual: his sister's driver's license, Albert's insurance card, and some misc. photos. His eyes grew wide, however, when he unfolded a legal document. It was a marriage license showing that his sister and Albert had married 4 weeks before the accident!

"I don't believe it! Why didn't she tell me?" The rookie asked in disbelief.

"There's only one person who can answer that." The chief replied. Your sister is in room 316 at Carrington General. Go ask her."

Because he was still in shock, Officer Meadows and Chief Mitchell decided it would be best if they accompanied Caroline's brother to the hospital. After arriving, the rookie immediately sought out his sister. Their mother, who had arrived almost two hours earlier, was sent with Chief Mitchell for the same pep talk that her son had been given concerning the situation.

Brother and sister hugged for quite some time. During a long talk that lasted almost three hours, Caroline explained to her brother the reason for hiding the marriage. She also confirmed that her mother had already informed her of her father's death. Although he hated to do it, her brother told her that Albert had died and the reason for the chase. When she heard about the danger involved, she readily agreed to assume her maiden name. "There's no need for mom to know about the marriage. Besides, it doesn't matter anymore." She explained as she sobbed for her husband as well as her father, two men who she now knew were out of her life forever.

"Dad, I see it but I don't believe it!" Frank Hardy confirmed as he sat holding the paper that his father had given him. Joe nodded in agreement.

"Sometimes it helps it to sink in if you read aloud." Fenton suggested.

Frank cleared his throat. "This certifies that Albert James Ingraham and Caroline Gertrude Hardy were married..." He suddenly stopped reading and took the copy of Michelle's birth certificate from his father's hand. Checking the date, he looked up at his dad. "If the date on this birth certificate is correct, then that means..."

"...that Michelle was born to Gertrude was she was in her coma!" Fenton finished.


	4. Chapter 4

The boys had heard stories of Gertrude's accident and resulting coma before, but the whole concept of her having been married was new to them. They sat and listened as their father filled them in on the details that he and Gertrude had hidden from the family for so many years.

"There's something I don't understand, Dad. I thought individuals who enter the witness protection program are issued new names as a precaution."

"They are, Frank." Fenton replied. "The document you see before you as well as Michelle's birth certificate contain the altered name. The true family name is Hall. Your Aunt Gertrude still has a copy of her original marriage license that shows the marriage of Albert Hall to Caroline Hardy, but all legally filed documents had to be altered. It was a necessary precaution taken to prevent any of Herringbone's followers from locating Gertrude while at the same time still allowing everything to remain legally legit."

"Well, that makes sense, but about the baby...if Aunt Gertrude was comatose during the birth, wouldn't she see evidence of it on her body? Wouldn't her doctor?"

"I don't know, Joe. Fenton sighed. I understand that she suffered a lot of cuts during the accident that required stitching. If there was any scarring, she may have dismissed it to an injury sustained in the accident. As far as the doctor is concerned, I don't have a medical degree so I'm not sure what they can and can't see."

"Wait a minute, I think we're getting ahead of ourselves." Frank announced. "If Aunt Gertrude had given birth in the hospital, wouldn't the staff have told her? What if this is all a trick by Herringbone's cronies?"

"I don't think it is." Fenton said. "I think that if Herringbone's gang is still together and knows Gertrude's whereabouts, they would be smart enough to know that she would have offered any additional information she may have had to the police a long time ago."

"Maybe his sentence is almost up." Frank suggested. "And what if this girl Michelle isn't really Gertrude's daughter? What if she's part of a ploy to lure Gertrude out and kill her before she has a chance to cause him any additional trouble?"

"If that's the case, wouldn't it have been simpler for Michelle to just walk up and say she was Gertrude's daughter rather than having us beat around the bush?" Joe asked.

"It seems like it." Fenton replied. "But anything is possible. Either way, we have two mysteries on our hands at this point. The first being whether or not this girl is in fact Gertrude's daughter, the second being, why was she kidnapped. It will take all three of us to get to the bottom of this."

"What do you want us to do Dad?" Frank asked.

"The name of the hospital where Gertrude stayed was Carrington General in New York. I'd like you boys to go into the city and see what kind of documentation you can come up with. Get a copy of Michelle's birth certificate and anything else you can find. In the meantime, I'll work with the cab company and see if we can find out where Michelle was dropped off."

Frank looked at his watch. "If we leave right now, we can go to the hospital and be back around midnight."

Fenton nodded his approval. "I should have some information from the cab company by the time you get back."

The boys got up to leave. Frank had his hand on the doorknob when his father acknowledged them.

"I'm sure you already know this, but I don't think it's a good idea to mention any of this to your Aunt Gertrude yet. Until we have a better understanding of what we are dealing with, there's no reason to bring her any unnecessary grief."

"We understand, Dad." Joe assured him.

Fenton followed his sons downstairs and met his sister who cut her eyes at her nephews when she saw them grab their coats.

"Just where do you two think you're going? Your mother and I have just set dinner on the table."

"Uh, something important has come up, Aunt Gertrude. We really don't have time to eat right now." Frank replied.

"Oh, and what's so important that you miss the nice dinner your mother has spent all day preparing?" Aunt Gertrude prompted. The problems and cases that the Hardys faced were usually freely discussed among the family.

The boys looked at their Dad for an answer, knowing that the subject in this case was off limits. "Uh Gert, there will be plenty of time to explain things later. I've asked the boys to run an errand for me and I'd like them back home fairly early. After all, tomorrow is a school day."

Gertrude crossed her arms and looked at the trio. "Well, if having one of the few remaining mothers and wives in this country who puts a home cooked meal on the table every night means nothing to you..."

"That's why microwave ovens were invented, Auntie!" Joe replied, zipping up his coat. Before she had a chance to respond, he and Frank were out the door.

"You again?" The homely, forty-something nurse thundered when Joe approached the nurse's station for a second time.

Joe flashed her his most winning smile. In the field of detecting, one had to assume many roles, and while Joe was good at most anything, Frank's latest distraction idea left a lot to be desired.

"I've already told you, it is not the policy of this hospital to make patient records public. If you absolutely insist on obtaining the records, you will either have to have your aunt pick them up or obtain a police warrant."

"Oh, it's not that." Joe replied, trying hard not to look to the nurse's side. Behind her, Frank Hardy was quietly making his way to the records room, which could only be entered through the door directly behind the nurse. Only God knew where Frank had found the white lab coat and stethoscope that he wore. But thanks to the disguise, the casual observer would think nothing of him being back there.

"Then what is it?" The nurse insisted, obviously annoyed at having her work interrupted a second time.

_'You'd better make this quick, Frank.'_ Joe thought as Frank's thumbs up sign indicated that he had successfully gained access to the records. As he quietly closed the door behind him, Joe continued. "Well, I'm a little embarrassed to ask, but I just saw this beautiful nurse getting onto the elevator. I ran, but the doors closed before I got there. I'd love to meet her and, well, she looked so much like you, I was wondering if she might be your daughter or something."

"Oh." The nurse blushed, her hardened attitude disappearing. It was more than obvious that she was extremely flattered that anyone who resembled her had been described as 'beautiful'. "I'm sorry, but I don't have any daughter's that work here. As a matter of fact, I don't have any children. I was never married."

"Never married?" Joe replied in mock shock.

"Actually, I was engaged once." The nurse continued. "He went into the army right out of high school. We were supposed to be married after he finished basic training, but little did we know what was going to happen. One day..."

Joe nodded and tried to look interested in the story, at the same time thankful that the nurse was being easily distracted.

In the meantime Frank was having a difficult time finding Gertrude's medical paperwork. The file room was much bigger than he had anticipated. To further complicate matters, the time of Gertrude's hospitalization coincided with the precise time that the hospital first started keeping records on computer. While the oldest system in the room was slowly booting up, Frank busied himself in the filing cabinets.

After searching file after file, he looked at the clock on the wall. He was surprised to see that fifteen minutes had already passed! He didn't know how much longer Joe was going to be able to keep the nurse busy, and he still hadn't found any records of Gertrude.

As ten more minutes passed, he banged on the antique computer in frustration. Although he was thankful that he had bothered to learn the old Lotus applications, it was doing him no good as the name 'Gertrude Hardy' failed to show up in the system. Searches for the names Gertrude or Caroline under both the last names Ingraham and Hall provided the same results.

Frank was about to give up when he remembered something his father had told him. "Susan Rice." He said aloud, snapping his fingers. It was the fictitious name the police had assigned Gertrude to keep her protected during the trial. Sue , Susie, and Susan could not be found.

Without bothering to shut down the program, Frank quickly flipped the off switch and ran back to the filing cabinets. He jerked open the ancient drawer market R and briefly searched through the folders.

"Susan Rice." Frank grinned, plucking the thick file from the drawer. He quickly scanned the yellowing paperwork. As he went back to the earliest pages, the name had changed from Susan Rice to Caroline Gertrude Hall. Success!

Hiding the file inside of his coat, Frank made a quick scan of the room to make sure everything was as he had found it. He then made his way to the door and opened it a crack to make sure the coast was clear.

"This is Renee Kensington." The nurse was telling Joe as a younger, equally homely nurse extended her hand to him. "We've been mistaken as being related before. I'm sure this is who you must have seen."

"Glad to meet you." Joe said, forcing a smile as he extended his arm for the handshake.

The older nurse went on to explain to Renee what Joe had told her previously. Renee responded by flashing Joe her most brilliant smile. "Well, I'd love to talk with you, Joe. Maybe we could go get a cup of coffee or something. My shift just ended."

"Oh, well, I..." Joe responded, suddenly noticing Frank out of the corner of his eye. Although he continued to act pleasantly toward the nurses, Frank knew that he was a dead man if he didn't get Joe out of there.

Frank cleared the nurses' station and quickly walked down the hall to return his coat and stethoscope to the place where he had found them. He then untucked his shirt and stuffed the file into the back of his pants, using the shirttail to help hide it. Satisfied that it didn't show, he quickly made his way back to his brother

.

"What do you mean you have a girlfriend?" The older nurse asked. "If that's the case why are you interrupting my work to ask me about beautiful nurses you would like to meet?"

"I'm guess I'm just acting out of spite. We've been fighting, but I think we're going to get back together." Joe nervously replied, breathing a sigh of relief as Frank approached him.

"Hey bro." Frank said casually. "I just got off the phone with mom and we're supposed to meet her at the restaurant in five minutes."

"We'd better get going then." Joe replied, simply waving to the confused nurses as he made his way to the elevator.

"Man!" Joe said, heaving a sigh of relief. "I thought you were never going to get out of there. If you'd stayed much longer, I'd have had to go down to the cafeteria to drink coffee with her!"

"Well, you said you wanted to date other people." Frank laughed.

Joe gave him a sidelong glance. "I'll let that pass. Did you find out anything?"

Frank reached behind and patted his back where the top of the folder rested. "We'll take a look when we get out to the van."

A few minutes later they were in the van, their exit from the hospital being uneventful. Frank scanned the contents of the folder as Joe drove toward the office of public records.

"What do they say?" Joe prompted as Frank pondered in silence.

"Give me time. There's eleven months of paperwork to go through here." Frank spent the next hour and a half mostly in silence as he poured over the contents of the overstuffed file. Only his good fortune in wearing his favorite oversized shirt and pants that day had allowed him to remove it from the hospital without suspicion. During that time, Joe had managed to collect a good copy of Michelle's birth certificate just before the office of public records closed for the night.

"Well, this confirms it." Frank announced as he looked at the altered birth certificate. The illegible print on the original certificate had hid that fact that Michelle was indeed the daughter of Albert and Caroline Gertrude Ingraham, maiden name, Hardy. Frank looked at the date of birth. "She's just two months younger than you, Joe."

They both sat in shocked silence in the parking lot for a few moments. "What do we tell Aunt Gertrude?" Joe finally asked.

Frank ran a finger across his lips as he thought. "Nothing, not yet anyway. We'll get with Dad and decide what to do. There has to be a reason why Aunt Gertrude was never told of the baby."

Frank continued his study of the paperwork while Joe continued the commute back to Bayport. The ride went smoothly until they came up to the bridge that spanned the Waldron River, Bayport's water source. There they met a police barricade that had the bridge down to one lane. Traffic traveling in opposite directions had to take turns.

As Joe waited to cross, he was approached by a police officer.

"Hey, Joe! I thought that was you." Officer Terry Bearden smiled as he aimed his flashlight in Joe's face.

Joe reached out and put his hand over the source of the beam. "Terry, I thought you were a policeman, not a highway patrolman." Joe stated, remembering that he had first met Terry on the scene of an accident that he had thought claimed Frank's life. Joe had seen him working a few other accidents since then.

Terry shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't expect to be doing this all the time, but it beats sitting behind a desk pushing papers. How are you Frank?"

He and Frank exchanged greetings and made some casual conversation. "What happened this time, Terry?" Joe asked, jutting his chin out at the barricaded lane.

"It wasn't a car accident. You know how swollen the river is from the recent rains?" Joe nodded. "Every time it happens, the water always manages to pick up heavy objects and carry them down the river. This time, one of those objects slammed into one of the bridge foundations and caused structural damage serious enough to declare the bridge unsafe. A repair crew should be out here first thing in the morning, but the bridge will probably be down to one lane for at least two weeks."

"What was the object?" Frank asked.

Terry shrugged his shoulders. It's long gone by now. Probably a dead tree that was lying along the banks somewhere. It wouldn't take much with those antique supports." Terry jerked his head back as someone yelled at him. "Well it looks like you're clear to go. See you guys around."

The boys waved and made their way across the bridge. Before long, Joe was weaving through the streets of his neighborhood.

"I've found it!" Frank exclaimed, intently studying one of the papers as the rest fell unnoticed at his feet.

"What's it say?" Joe asked, craning his neck to get a look.

Franks reply was to wave his hand in a way that told Joe he was trying to read. "Hmmm, that's weird." Frank said mostly to himself.

"Well, what is it?" Joe asked again.

"This paperwork definitely confirms that Gertrude did have a baby, but it also reports that the baby was stillborn."

"Stillborn?" Joe asked in disbelief. They sat in silence for a minute. Joe shook his head "Frank this is getting more and more strange. First, this girl shows up looking for her mother. She doesn't mention Gert's name, yet we find reason to think she might be Gertrude's daughter, then we find paperwork confirming Gertrude had a baby, only to find out that the baby is dead?"

"It is strange.." Frank confirmed as Joe pulled into their driveway. He looked at the house. "Oh, good. Looks like Dad waited up for us. The light in his study is still on."

Because it was well after midnight, Frank and Joe didn't have to endure the wrath of their sleeping aunt. They went into the kitchen and warmed the plates their mother had made up for them. Quickly eating the meal, they set their dishes in the sink and tiptoed upstairs.

"Come in boys." Their father said in response to their rap on the door. "What did you find out?"

Frank quickly filled his father in on the information they had collected, then handed over the birth certificate and hospital file. "I dog eared the pages that concern the birth. Most of the paperwork simply revolves around basic everyday medical care, such as medicine administrations and bandage changes."

Fenton looked at the paperwork. "According to this, Gertrude was given a cesarean. Not surprising as she was in no condition to push with contractions."

"What did you find out from the cab company, Dad?" Joe prompted.

"I was just about to get to that." Fenton replied, closing the folder. "None of the records turned in at the cab company tonight show a pickup at this address, but they think that it must have been cab number 5970."

"What's their reason for thinking that?" Frank asked.

"Because that's the only cab left out there that hasn't turned in any records. And strangly enough, even though the driver's shift ended at 8:00 p.m., as of five minutes ago, he still hadn't returned to work!"


	5. Chapter 5

Maybe the driver had a long trip to make." Joe hoped.

Fenton shook his head. "According to the manager, this driver has worked for the cab company for over twenty years. He's never failed to call in when working this far past his shift and so far... no call."

Fenton looked at the boys. "I know we originally planned not to involve the police, but no one has called with any type of kidnapping demands and according to Michelle herself, her father had no idea that she came here. Besides, with one of their best drivers missing, it's only a matter of time before the cab company files a report of their own. We have a better chance of finding Michelle if we can put out an APB for that cab."

The boys reluctantly agreed, although they knew that Chief Collig would do his best to limit their involvement in the case.

As soon as Fenton hung up the phone, he looked at his sons. "It's almost 1 o'clock in the morning. I suggest that you boys get some sleep."

"How are we supposed to sleep, Dad? That's Gertrude's daughter out there, our first cousin and your niece. Imagine what that maniac could be doing to her!" Joe debated.

"We're not going to do her any good if we're out there sleepwalking through the search. We'll get up early in the morning and head for New York. I have a feeling some of my old colleagues can shed some light on the subject."

The boys saw that there was no point in arguing and reluctantly slunk off to bed. Both lay awake most of the night, staring at but not really seeing the ceiling. The excitement of gaining a first cousin made them more anxious that usual about the situation at hand. Gertrude was their Dad's only sibling, and their mom's brothers, Pete and Bruce, had both remained childless. If she formed a close relationship with Gertrude, it would almost be like having a sister.

After what seemed like forever, Joe finally drifted off to sleep only to be rudely awakened by the alarm clock thirty minutes later. He reached over and pounded the snooze button. Despite the fact that it was only 6:00 a.m., he groggily sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. As he tried to focus on his surroundings, he heard the sound of the shower. Frank was already up.

A few minutes later, the door between the bathroom and Joe's bedroom opened up and Frank stepped inside, prepared to spend the usual ten minutes getting Joe out of bed.

"Mornin'" Joe mumbled from beneath his tousled hair.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" Frank asked.

Joe shook his head. "Any hot water left?"

"Should be." Frank replied.

Frank went back into the bathroom to finish getting ready, and then Joe followed the same routine. As soon as they were finished, they went downstairs where they found stacks of pancakes waiting for them.

"Morning boys." Fenton said, sipping coffee.

"Oh, Joe." His mother sighed, looking at his nose. Although the swelling was almost gone, his nose was completely black and blue." Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine mom, really." Joe replied, sitting down at his usual spot. His Aunt Gertrude turned from the refrigerator and poured orange juice for everyone.

"Do you feel well? You look so tired." Laura asked, feeling his forehead.

"They all do." Gertrude commented, looking around the table.

Frank and Joe both looked at their dad. It was apparent on his face that he hadn't gotten any sleep either. Laura busied herself feeling of everyone's forehead. "None of you seem to have a fever. I wonder if anything's going around?"

"We're fine, Laura." Fenton replied, removing her hand from his head and kissing it. "We just didn't get much sleep last night."

"Still worried about that girl, Michelle?" Laura asked.

Without meaning to, the three Hardy men instinctively looked at Gertrude.

"Personally, I don't think you should get so involved in your cases that they cause you to loose sleep." Gertrude announced while pouring orange juice, completely unaware of her audience. "Yes, I feel sorry for that girl, but she's got her own family to worry about her. Let the Hardys take care of their own problems, that's what I say."

"I agree, Gertrude, I agree." Fenton replied, realized that his sister had no idea what she had really said.

"I don't think the school day will be very productive if the two of you are counting sheep. Maybe you should stay home and rest. What do you think, Fenton?" Laura asked.

"I don't think they should go to school today either, but for different reasons. I want them to come with me to New York." Fenton replied, drinking the rest of his coffee. "Don't worry, I won't keep them any longer than I have to. They can even sleep on the way there and back if they want."

"What business do you have in New York?" Laura asked.

"I'm going to see Detective Meadows." Fenton replied simply.

"Your old colleague? He's still with the department?"

"One of the few remaining." Fenton said. "He's heard about the boys all these years. I thought it was about time he met them."

"Well, can't it wait until another day? You don't look like you're in much better condition than they are."

Fenton shook his head. "Unfortunately it's more than just a social call." He looked at his watch and picked up his coat. "We better get going boys."

The trio paused in the family room long enough to phone the police station.

"We're still searching, Fenton." Con Riley informed him. "We've even got the state highway patrol involved. As soon as we find out something, you'll be the first person I call."

Fenton thanked him and hung up the phone. Then he and the boys climbed into his car and set out for New York City."

"Fenton! Long time no see." Detective Meadows exclaimed. He came around from behind the desk where he had stood and hugged his old co-worker. He then stepped back and folded his arms, arching his eyebrows. "Well I must say I feel quite honored, being in the presence of one of our countries most popular and respected private detectives!"

"Flattery will get you everywhere, my friend." Fenton laughed.

Meadows eyed the boys and gave Fenton a sidelong glance. "Don't tell me that this is little Frankie and Joey."

"The very ones." Fenton replied. He stepped aside as Meadows shook hands with his sons.

After they had exchanged pleasantries, Meadows took note of the tired look on Fenton's face. "Am I safe in assuming that this is more than a social visit?"

In response to Fenton's nod, Meadows looked around headquarters. "I believe that Johnson is off today." He said, nodding toward an empty office.

The Hardys allowed Meadows to lead them into the glass front office. Once inside, he closed the door and went to sit behind Johnson's desk. Although he had a full view of all the activity that was taking place outside the office, the interior was completely quiet.

"How's your sister, Fenton?" He asked casually.

"Oh, fine. She's fine." Fenton replied.

"That's good. You know, even today, she comes to mind from time to time." Meadows said. "But why wouldn't she? In all my years here at the department, that has to be the most unusual case we've ever encountered. And considering that we are in New York City, that's a pretty big statement to make!"

Meadows laughed but quickly stopped when he saw that Fenton wasn't joining in. "Sorry, pal. Is this something you don't want discussed in front of your boys?"

"Oh, it's fine. The boys know all about it." Fenton replied. "But something else has come up that I need to know about."

"What's that?" Meadows asked. Frank couldn't help but notice that the detective suddenly looked nervous he tried to make a casual attempt to sharpen pencils in the electric sharpener.

"Was there anything else that happened to my sister while she was in that hospital that no one in this department told me about?"

Meadows looked shocked, but after a moment smiled and tapped a pencil on the desk. "Oh come on Fenton, what kind of people do you think you worked with?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out." Fenton replied seriously, locking eyes with his old colleague.

"What are you getting at?" Meadows asked, abandoning the pencil.

"Were you aware of the fact that my sister gave birth to a baby while in the hospital?" Fenton asked bluntly.

Meadows leaned back and sighed. "Yes."

Fenton didn't know why he felt shocked. It was the answer he was expecting. Still, the look registered on his face.

"You have to understand, Fenton. We felt your family had already gone through too much. You had already lost your father that year, and you thought you lost your sister too. And as for your sister, well, she had already lost almost a year of living her life by lying in that bed, only to wake up and be told that the two men she loved the most in this world had both died. Why tell her about the baby? It would have broken her heart even more to know she had lost an infant too."

"So the program just decided to let Albert have the baby without consulting Gertrude's family. We could have at least been told after she came out of the coma."

"And then what? Snatch the only thing that Albert could hold on to out of his arms?" Meadows asked. "He wanted some part of his former life to hold on to. Gertrude's baby was that link. After what he did for us, we owed him that much."

As the three Hardys sat in silence, Meadows continued. "How did you find out, anyway?"

Fenton allowed his sons to explain the story of Michelle's search for her mother and her kidnapping shortly after. "She doesn't seem to know that Gertrude is her mother." Fenton added. "After I saw her birth certificate, I became suspicious enough to have the boys do a little research for me. The medical paperwork confirmed everything."

"There's just one thing I don't understand, detective." Frank added. "According to hospital records, Gertrude's baby was stillborn."

"We would have preferred that all information concerning the birth be left off the records. But legally, the hospital was obligated to document it as they had to issue a birth certificate." Meadows explained. "However, we did get legal authority to have them record the baby as stillborn on Gertrude's medical file due to the unusual circumstances surrounding the case. If Gertrude had for some reason requested her medical paperwork and it showed a live birth, she would no doubt have gone looking for it, and with enough pushing that may have led to her finding Albert. If she succeeded, and Herringbone's cronies had been waiting in the shadows, well, I'm sure you can figure out what would have happened to all three of them."

"All of this is finally beginning to make sense." Joe said. "No wonder Michelle has moved around so much."

"And it also explains why her father has been so reluctant to tell her about her mother." Frank added.

Meadows nodded. "Herringbone was no idiot, and Albert knew that. I'm sure he was always aware of the fact that someone could be watching your house, and the probable consequences of any attempt on Michelle's part to contact you."

Joe banged his fist on the desk. "So in all likelihood, Michelle is off somewhere being tortured by Herringbone's gang without knowing why and, worse yet, without knowing that anyone is aware of what's going on."

"Calm down, Joe." Fenton replied. "If this is part of Herringbone's gang I doubt if they will do anything drastic. They probably just want to use her to get to Albert."

"I'm not sure that's the case, Fenton." Meadows said. "I know for a fact that Herringbone's money ran out a long time ago. Without money, he had no way of paying anyone to carry out his acts of revenge."

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Meadows looked up and noticed a petite secretary waving a paper at him. He motioned for her to come in.

"I'm sorry to interrupt detective. But you told me to notify you immediately if anything concerning this case ever came up."

She handed Meadows a paper that had obviously come from a fax machine. As she quietly closed the door behind her Meadows read the fax. Fenton was surprised to see all of the color drain from his friend's face."

"What is it, Meadows?" Fenton asked, alarm in his voice.

Meadows only response was to hand the fax over to Fenton. Frank and Joe stood up to read over his shoulder.

It was an alert that, the day before, Herringbone had escaped from prison!


	6. Chapter 6

Did they fax a current picture of Herringbone?" Fenton asked as he held his hand out, assuming that the second page that Meadows held would be a mug shot.

"They did, but it's a terrible copy. I'll make a phone call and have the photo sent to my e-mail." Meadows replied, holding the page up for the Hardys to see. Only the outline of a human face proved that the photo was indeed that of a man.

While Johnson's computer was warming up, Meadows made his phone call and got in contact with the appropriate party to email a legible photo to him. He logged into the computer and pulled up his e-mail screen. "Joe, can you describe the man who forced Michelle into the cab?" He asked, staring at the screen as he waited for the information to appear.

"I really didn't get a good look at him. By the time he got my attention I was on my back trying to breath." Joe replied.

"Tell me anything you remember. You've worked in detecting long enough to know that the smallest details count."

Joe jabbed his tongue into his cheek and stared at the ceiling as he thought. "A lot of his features were hidden. He had on a hat, trench coat, and sunglasses. I guess he was about my height, medium build..." Joe's voice trailed off and he suddenly snapped his fingers. "His pinkie! I remember now. I only looked at the gun in his hand for an instant, but for some reason I happened to notice that the tip of his pinkie was missing!"

The sound of a computerized doorbell interrupted Joe's thoughts. Meadows stared at the screen and began clicking the mouse. He then turned the monitor in Joe's direction. "Does that guy look familiar to you?"

Joe stared at the photo of Herringbone. The guy looked to be about the age of his dad. His skin was pale and his face expressionless as he held a board in front of him bearing the name of the prison and a number underneath. Joe didn't especially find anything familiar about the picture until he concentrated on the profile shot.

"Check it out, Dad!" Joe said, tapping the screen in excitement. Fenton looked and noticed what Joe had seen. The hand that held the board to the side was missing part of the pinkie finger!

"Well at least we know who has her now." Frank commented.

"I'm not sure that makes me feel better, Frank." Fenton replied, old memories resurfacing in his thoughts. "Herringbone was crazy. It honestly would have been better to have him entered into a mental institution all those years ago rather than put into prison, but the system worked differently back then. It's got to tell you something when the first thing he does as soon as he breaks out of prison is to kidnap Michelle, so I doubt if his stability is any better today that it was seventeen years ago. Yet one thing still nags at me..."

"How did he know where Michelle would be?" Frank finished for him.

Fenton nodded his head.

"Dad, I just thought of something else." Joe chimed in. "Did Herringbone know where Michelle was because someone was following her or because someone was watching the house? If the latter is true, then Mom and Aunt Gertrude could be in danger even as we speak!"

Fenton thought for a moment. "I think if Herringbone had been out to get any of us, he would have had his threats against us carried out by now. It seems to me that he was only out to get Michelle, and probably took her only to have a window to Albert. Nevertheless, I'll call home and have your Mom set the alarm. Gary, would you do me a favor and call the Bayport Police Department? Tell them what's going on and have them send a car over to patrol the block."

"What are you going to do, Hardy?" Meadows asked as Fenton stood up and grabbed his coat, instructing the boys to do the same.

"I'm going to the prison to see what I can find out there."

Fenton called home and instructed Laura to set the security alarms without explaining why. About an hour and a half later, he and the boys found themselves well north of New York City, walking through metal detectors as they made their way to the warden's office of the Fishkill Correctional Facility.

After Fenton explained to Warden Smith his special interest in investigating the whereabouts of Herringbone, he requested a tour of Herringbone's cell and the exact location of his escape. He also asked permission to view the video surveillance tapes that were made at the time of the escape.

Smith shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know that it would do you any good. The state police and FBI have been going through this place with a fine tooth comb since shortly after the escape. They've already dubbed the tapes and gone through Herringbone's personal property. But if you're really interested, I'll be glad to have a couple of my guards escort you to his cell.

The Hardys nodded their appreciation. Frank had met more than one prison warden in the few years of his life, but he instantly concluded that Smith was one of the nicer ones.

A few minutes later, Frank and Joe found themselves following their father down one of the cellblocks, an armed guard in front of Fenton and another behind them. Although they had seen a lot in their lives, they both began to feel uneasy as the prisoners sneered at them from behind their locked cell doors.

"Open C-12." The guard yelled after they had stopped in front of Herringbone's cell. A moment later a buzzer sounded and the door slid open by remote control.

The Hardy's then ducked inside, Frank and Joe hardly believing that they felt more safe inside the cell. They quickly shook off the uneasy feeling the prisoners had given them and began to search though Herringbone's things. One officer stood guard while the other put his rifle down and assisted the group.

"There really isn't much to see." The guard informed them as they looked around the room. As they searched through his things they uncovered basic everyday items: clothing, underwear, hygiene products, books, snack food, and so forth. His walls were wallpapered with posters of female movie and rock stars. Joe couldn't resist peeking behind them as he remembered watching the movie _"The Shawshank Redemption"_.

"They've been over this place with a fine tooth comb. Anything that was even remotely personal was confiscated by the FBI as probable clues to his whereabouts."

"Except maybe these." Joe replied. Everyone in the room went and stood next to Joe as he pulled dozens of photographs out from behind a loose brick he had pried out of the wall.

"How on earth did you find these?" The astonished guard asked.

"By accident." Joe replied. "I was pressing the tape from this poster back on the wall when I noticed that the brick I was taping it to wiggled, so I decided to check it out."

Joe quickly went over to the bed and began spreading the photos out.

"That's Herringbone." The guard insisted, pointing to a black and white photo of a boy on a tricycle. Later photos revealed him dressed out in a basketball jersey, in a graduation gown, and in suit and tie, looking over his fathers shoulder as he sat behind an impressive desk.

"That must have been when his father was mayor. The office has been remodeled, but I would know that view anywhere." Fenton stated, tapping at the picture perfect view in the window behind the Herringbones.

Joe moved the picture to the side, and the next one brought a gasp from Fenton. "That's Albert." He said, snatching it up in astonishment. It was only a photocopy, but Fenton clearly recognized Gertrude's husband.

"Dad, I think you need to look at these." Joe said after a few moments, having gone back to looking through the rest of the photographs. Fenton broke his concentration on Albert's photo.

The photos that now lay before him brought a feeling of dread to all three of them.

They were all pictures of the Hardy house. The photos were made at different times and from different angles, only each photo had the picture of a girl in it that would have been the same age as Michelle at the time. Frank recognized Stephanie, a girl he had a crush on in elementary school. Then there was Nora, a girl who had lived next door to them for a while. There were even pictures of girl scouts selling cookies door to door, pizza delivery girls, even Callie, Iola, and Vanessa! There were dozens of photocopies of Albert's photo, one pasted next to each girls face. Notes such as 'hair not the right color', 'nose the wrong shape', were penciled onto each copy.

As the horrified trio came to the bottom of the stack, they found fresh photos that looked as if they had been taken very recently. The first photo showed the house from a short distance away. The empty driveway proved that there had been no one home at the time, however it was clear that someone was standing at the front door. The second photo was a little closer to the house. This time, the mysterious person was standing in the front yard, looking up at the second floor windows, obviously trying to determine if anyone was home. The third picture showed the visitor very close up. She had turned around and was walking back toward the street.

"Michelle." Frank and Joe said in unison.

The photo was no exception, there was also a picture of Albert taped to it. Only this time, it was the original color photo from which all of the photocopies had been made.

The resemblance was undeniable. Herringbone had written a single word on the color copy: 'Bingo!'

With a heavy heart, Frank looked more closely at the photos. The latest ones had a digital date printed in the lower right hand corner.

It was three days earlier, two days before Frank and Joe had met Michelle.

Gathering up their findings, they walked back to the warden's office where Fenton immediately called the Bayport Police Department and spoke to Chief Collig. He stayed on the line long enough to relay his new findings, to make sure that a police officer was patrolling the area around his house, and to learn that there were still no leads on the missing cab. The Chief assured him that the investigation had already went from missing person to kidnapping with the information Meadows had submitted earlier.

The warden wouldn't allow them to keep the photos they had found, but had no problem with having copies made. While Frank stayed busy scanning and making color copies of the photos on the wardens computer and printer system, Fenton and Joe spent the rest of the afternoon going over Herringbone's escape route and viewing the surveillance tapes. To their disappointment, Herringbone's actual escape was not caught on videotape. A careless, and now fired, security guard had used the camera that was poised over the escape route to zoom in on a beautiful woman in the parking lot at the time. Both Hardys furiously jotted down notes as they watched.

Frank rejoined them just as Fenton and Joe were turning the surveillance tapes back over to the warden. Frank turned the original photos over to him as well. They then thanked him for his cooperation and allowed an armed guard to escort them out of the building.

Once they were in the car, Joe spoke up.

"I hope we're going home, I'm starving to death!" He exclaimed, noticing that the subtle growling that had been in his stomach that afteroon wasn't quite so subtle anymore.

"We are just as soon as I stop back by the NYPD to leave Meadows a report on what we've learned today. Frank, did you remember to make two copies of the photos?"

Frank nodded.

Just under two hours later, his father was waking him up to take a copy of their notes and the photos into the station. Frank went to Meadow's office to find it locked and the light off, so he slipped the information under the glass door. Going back out to his father's car, he took Fenton's place behind the wheel while his father slid over to the passenger's seat, hoping to spend the next hour catching up on his sleep.

"Joe, what do you say we spend tonight after supper looking for that cab ourselves? I can't stand the thought of what that Herringbone guy might be doing to Michelle!" Frank suggested after his father had drifted off to sleep.

"Neither can I, Frank, but we didn't get much rest last night." Joe reminded him as he made no effort to stifle a yawn. "I can barely keep my eyes open now. Maybe we can talk some of our friends into helping us out."

Frank didn't like the idea of sticking around the house, but realized Joe was right. Despite the fact that he had napped from the correctional facility back to the city, he realized he was still tired as he also began to yawn.

As he yawned, he realized something else. "Joe?"

"Yea?" Came the response from the backseat.

"Do you really want to be there when Dad tells Aunt Gertrude what's going on?"

"Fenton, you're beginning to scare me." Laura announced as Fenton paced back and forth in the living room, debating on how he was going to break the news to the two women he had asked to sit down fifteen minutes ago.

"Are you sure the boys are alright?" Gertrude asked, her harsh tone finally giving way to concern as her brother agonized over his words.

"Yes, I promise you they are fine." Fenton assured them, remembering that they had asked to stay at Biff's house for awhile where they had instantly found places to nap on the couches in the den. Fenton felt good knowing that, after hearing the story, that Biff had agreed to their favor and gone out with Tony to look for the cab..

"Okay." Fenton said, sitting down to face them, taking a deep breath. "Well, you see, it's like this. Um, okay. Well, it's about the car wreck."

Laura put her hand over her mouth. "You found out Joe wrecked your car! I thought he had it fixed good as new!"

"No...what? When did this happen?" Fenton asked.

"About a month ago. It was just a fender bender. Joe knew this hotshot mechanic and he got it looking like new again the same afternoon." Laura suddenly stopped rambling. "Wait a minute? What car wreck are you talking about?"

Fenton made a mental note to speak to Joe later about his accident, then immediately began to stumble over words again.

"Well, the wreck, the one in New York City..."

"You were in a wreck in New York today? Are you okay?" Laura and Gertrude jumped up and began examining him.

"NO!" Fenton replied, burying his head in his hands. The interruptions were not helping his concentration or his bravery.

"You're not? What's wrong? Have you been to the hospital? Were the boys in the car at the time? Have they been checked?" Gertrude drilled.

"No! I was not in a wreck in New York today!" Fenton practically shouted. The astonished women sat back down.

"Give me just a minute." Fenton requested as he took deep breaths and regained his composure. He closed his eyes, then opened them slowly.

"What I'm trying to say, is something has come up on an issue we dealt with a long time ago. Back when we lived in New York..."

This time he was interrupted by the tone of the doorbell. Fenton rubbed his hand through his hair in frustration. He then got up and swung the door open with more force than needed. "What?" He asked before seeing who it was.

The visitor removed his hat and glasses. Fenton stared at him in astonishment, then reached out and tugged on his coat. He pulled the man inside and slammed the door.

Then the room was filled with the sound of a woman screaming.

Fenton jerked his head back as he watch his wife carefully lowering Gertrude's body to the floor, his sister passed out cold.

The visitor was Albert Ingraham.


	7. Chapter 7

Fenton ignored his sister's condition long enough to cast worried glances out the window, hoping against hope that no one had seen Albert come up to the door. The sight of a police car turning from High onto Elm Street was the only movement that could be seen under the rapidly darkening sky.

"Caroline! Albert exclaimed, rushing over to Gertrude. Fenton went over to join his wife and brother-in-law as they called Gertrude's name and tapped her cheeks lightly.

"Maybe we should take her to her bed." Laura suggested, looking up at the stairwell.

Fenton shook his head. "One of us might trip on the stairs. Let's take her to the sofa in the den."

While Fenton and Albert began the delicate task of moving Gertrude into the den, Laura went to the kitchen where she soaked a cloth in warm water. She quickly joined the men and placed the cloth in Albert's outstretched hand, which he used to dampen his wife's face.

A few seconds later, Gertrude's eyes fluttered open. The first person she happened to focus on was her brother. "Fenton, you will not believe who I thought that man was. I took one look at him and..."

While talking she glanced to her side, fully expecting to see Laura's concerned face staring back at her. Instead, she met Albert's eyes. She quickly sat up, holding the cloth to her cheek. "Am I seeing a ghost?" She dared to ask after a few silent moments.

"I hope not." Albert replied, grinning uncomfortably at her. She reached out and nervously touched his arm, reluctantly squeezing it like one would squeeze a tomato for ripeness. Albert reached out to her but she quickly jumped up and stepped out of his reach. With angry, tear filled eyes, she looked at Fenton.

"What is this, some kind of a joke? Why are you standing there and allowing this man to torture me by pretending to be Albert, when Albert has been dead for years?"

Fenton was temporarily taken aback by his sister's unexpected outburst but quickly recovered. "Gertrude, I would never allow that to happen! This is Albert, you've got to believe me!"

"Why should I?" Gertrude shouted, keeping a safe distance from the two men.

"Maybe this will convince you."

Albert unbuttoned his shirt and pointed to a unique birthmark on his right shoulder. Gertrude stepped close enough to examine it.

"You remember this? You used to comment on how much it looks like a heart. You even kidded around about how I should have our names tattooed inside it."

Gertrude looked at him once again. "I had forgotten about that." She almost smiled but quickly composed herself. "Things like that can be faked. Fenton has a kit upstairs that he uses to make birthmarks and such as disguises when he works undercover."

"But would a fake Albert had known about the tattoo suggestion?" He argued.

"Fenton, this is enough. Throw whoever this is out of the house immediately!"

Fenton threw up his hands. "Sis for once in your life will you listen to me? This really is Albert! If you would stop and think for two seconds you would realize I'm not much for pulling pranks."

Gertrude looked at her brother. She really wanted to believe him but was almost afraid to.

Fenton heaved a sigh. "Please sit down, Gert. This is what I was trying to explain to you."

Gertrude sat a respectable distance from Albert and waited along with Laura for the explanation.

Fenton and Albert spent the next half hour explaining all of the events that had taken place while she was comatose, each interrupting the other one to add tidbits of information. By the time it was over, she had received an abreviated version of all of the events that had taken place over the last 17 years, including the fact that she had given birth during her comatose state."

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you about Albert and his entrance into the witness protection program sooner." Fenton said at the end, taking Gertrude's hand. "But for the safety of both of you, it was for the best. I hope you can see that."

Gertrude blinked back tears. "This is a lot of information to absorb all at once, but I do believe you." She suddenly smiled and looked at Albert, wiping tears from her eyes. "I don't believe it! I, we, have a daughter!"

Albert smiled and nodded, tears coming to his own eyes.

"Well where is she? I can't believe it but I feel nervous about meeting her!" Gertrude exclaimed, getting up from her seat and looking out of the living room window, half-expecting to see someone waiting in the car outside.

"Well, that's part of the reason I'm here." Albert replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Something in the tone of his voice told Gertrude that she should sit back down.

"You see, Michelle's been missing for a few days. It wasn't long ago that she got this idea in her head that she wanted to trace her mother's family history. Now, as much as I've wanted to, I've never actually told her about you, Caroline, but I've talked about the family over the years as if you were all old friends. I was hoping that she may have come here asking questions, knowing your background in searches like this."

"Well actually, she did." Fenton replied.

Relief visibly washed over Albert. "Oh, good, so you know where Michelle is then."

"Michelle?" Gertrude looked at Fenton in shock, the realization slowly seeping in. She put her hand over her mouth. "Oh no! Not the Michelle that Joe saw being kidnapped!"

As Fenton slowly nodded, Albert jumped to his feet. "Kidnapped? When did this happen? What's going on?" He asked, panic in his voice.

Fenton filled him in on the details he and the boys had gathered in their investigation and explained how he had found out that Michelle was Gertrude's daughter. "The whole key in this investigation is finding the driver of the cab that picked them up."

"Well let's hope he reports back to work soon." Laura said with doubt in her voice.

The room fell silent for a few minutes, each caught up in the seriousness of the situation. Gertrude silently looked at Albert, who had his back turned to her. There were many times over the years that she had longed to be in his company. Yet now that the opportunity had arrived, the only feelings she could manage were a deep sense of love and of terror for a faceless girl she had never met.

After a short while everyone's silent thoughts were interrupted by the ringing telephone.

"Maybe they've found the cab." Laura hopefully suggested, picking up the phone. "Hello?" She said as the rest of the group stared at her anxiously.

"For you, dear. Detective Meadows."

"Hardy here." Fenton said after taking the phone.

"Fenton? Gary here. I had to go back by the office and found the file you left for me. I have a lead you might want to try. It's rather slim, but it's better than nothing."

Meadows went on to explain that the notes Joe had taken while reviewing the video surveilance had contained the license plate number of the car belonging to the woman the guard had been eyeing on the surveillance video. "I ran the plate and found out that the woman was Kacey Arnold, a reporter for the New York Tribune. It seems that she had been visiting several prisoners, gathering information for some story she was writing on prisioners behind bars. Anyway, seeing that she was there during the time of the escape, she may have seen something."

Fenton grabbed a pen and jotted a few quick notes. "I can send someone over to question her first thing in the morning." Meadows offered.

"Thanks, but I'll take it from here." Fenton replied. "Do you happen to have her phone number?"

"Negative. I can look up her street address for you though."

Fenton requested the information and listened as Meadows' hands played across the keyboard. "You can find her at 3041 Dogwood Circle, Apartment 1612. Reporters are being paid well these days. That's a fairly upscale part of town."

Fenton thanked his friend for the information and they exchanged goodbyes. He then dialed Biff's number as Laura relayed it to him from memory. After a few rings the answering machine came on. At the sound of the beep he shouted his sons' names. When he had almost given up and got ready to apologize to the Hooper's, he finally heard the sound of the receiver scraping along a desk followed by a sleepy 'hello?' from Frank.

"Frank, it's Dad. Wake your brother up and meet me out in front of Biff's house in 5 minutes."

"What's happening, has Michelle been found?" Frank asked, immediately perking up.

"Not yet, but we have a link to someone who can possibly provide information to lead us to Herringbone's whereabouts."

A little while later, Frank was punching Joe in the arm to wake him while pulling into an available parking space near the Dogwood Circle address their father had given them.

Fenton had driven the boys' van to Biff's house, followed by Laura. There he gave them the information that had been passed on to him by Detective Meadows and explained the situation at home with Albert's arrival. "They're both in a panic over Michelle right now." Fenton explained. "I think it would be best for me to stay home and see what I can do there while trying to ease their anxiety." Fenton had then got into Laura's car to return home with her while the boys made their second trip to New York City in one day.

Frank and Joe entered the apartment building and remained on the first floor. "Number 1612." Frank said out loud as they stood in front of a white door embossed with the gold colored numbers. He pushed the doorbell and listened to the chime inside.

No sooner had the chime rang out that Frank and Joe heard what sounded like a commotion inside. They listened to the muffled voices of a male and a female involved in what sounded like an argument. Frank and Joe became concerned when the voices were accompanied by the sounds of a struggle. After the sounds of shattering glass and a slamming door, footprints could be heard quickly making their way across the floor.

"Who is it?" A female voice nervously asked.

"Frank and Joe Hardy, ma'am. Are you alright?" Frank asked.

"I'm fine. Who are you and what do you want?" The woman replied.

"We're looking for Kacey Arnold. It concerns some visits she's made to the Fishkill Correctional Facility."

The boys listened as the locks were unlatched and Kacey opened the door a crack, the chain lock still in place. "It's kind of late. What do you need to know?"

Frank took note of her disheveled appearance. "Are you sure you're alright? We thought we heard a scuffle."

Kacey nodded and smiled. "When I heard the doorbell ring, I tried to get my husband to go into the bedroom because he wasn't decent. Don't worry, I'm used to scuffles with him." She put her hand up next to her mouth as if she were telling a secret. "He's an alcoholic." She whispered.

Frank nodded as Joe looked inside her apartment. No one could guess from the outside of the building that any of the apartments would be in that kind of condition, and one belonging to a reporter no less. In his narrowed field of vision, Joe spotted dirty clothes and dishes lying around. Her bookbag was unzipped, the contents lying on the floor. Photography books and cameras mingled with film and photographs.

Frank went on to explain the situation and asked if she had noticed anything unusual on her way in or out of the prison that day.

Kacey stared at the ceiling in thought for a moment then shook here head. "Nothing worth telling about."

Frank and Joe questioned her further but quickly became convinced that she hadn't seen anything. Although disappointed they managed smiles and apologized for the late night interruption.

"Well it looks like we go home empty handed." Frank said later as they made their way back out to the van.

"Gentlemen!"

Frank and Joe turned and saw a robed Ms. Arnold flagging them down. She quickly made her way to them in slippered feet.

"I just remembered something. I don't know if this means anything or not, but on my way in, I do remember seeing a broken down car at the side of the road just outside the prison."

Frank and Joe looked at each other in excitement. This could very well be the getaway car Herringbone had used! "Can you tell us anything about it at all? The license plate number maybe?" Frank asked.

Kacey stared at him in amazement. "Sure, it was 432 XTF. I don't know! I usually don't make a habit out of memorizing the license plate numbers of broken down vehicles. Do you?"

Frank felt his cheeks flush a little. Actually, he DID. Because of his affiliation with the Network, he had access to records from the Department of Motor Vehicles, and often ran the plates of broken down vehicles, especially if they had sat in the same spot for several days.

Kacey gave them a general description of the car. When asked about details, she replied: "The only thing unique about the car was that it had a blue bumper sticker that said "Miami or Bust."

Kacey then announced that she had to get back inside due to the cooling of the evening. Frank thanked her for the information. "The simplest clues can often bust a case wide open." He assured her.

She smiled at him. "As a reporter, I know a thing or two about that myself."

"At least we learned one thing." Joe replied later as he set the van on cruise control as it hummed down the interstate on the way back to Bayport.

"What's that?"

"That you can never label anybody. Think about the image Ms. Arnold presents. Big time reporter, upscale apartment...yet she lives in filth. She isn't even neat with her work. Did you see into her apartment? She had a bookbag full of photography items just dumped out on the floor."

"Sounds like you've met your match, Joe." Frank grinned. He was always hassling his brother about the appearance of his room.

After a while they approached the bridge spanning the Waldron River. It was illuminated by flashing blue, yellow, and red lights.

"Uh, oh. Looks like somebody didn't know the bridge was down to one lane." Frank said, assuming there had been a wreck.

He opened his window and leaned out, hoping to get a look at the action ahead. Large spotlights illuminated the river below. Frank could see it as clearly as if it were the middle of the day.

Moments later, a boat full of men began drifting downstream. Joe grabbed the mini binoculars that they always kept in the van.

"Frank!" Joe exclaimed. "Dad's in that boat!"

"Really? Wonder why?" Frank replied, grabbing the binoculars and taking a look for himself.

The boys found a wide spot at the side of the road and pulled the van over. They quickly walked down the riverbank where a second group of men was assembling at another boat. One held a beefy arm out as they tried to pass.

"Sorry. This is not a civilian matter. I will have to ask you to go back to your vehicle." He demanded.

"But we're Fenton Hardy's sons." Joe argued. "He just went ahead in the other boat."

He looked at the other boat then back at Frank and Joe. "State law." He said, handing them two life vests.

Moments later the group had assembled and was following the lead of the boat that Fenton was in.

"What's going on?" Frank asked one of the men.

"Not real sure. To tell you the truth, we're just the construction crew working on the bridge." The young man who looked to be about twenty years old nodded his head at the man Frank and Joe had first spoken to. "The foreman seems to know what is going on but he isn't saying too much. He just said our help might be needed."

The boats didn't go very far and soon Frank and Joe found their way to Fenton as he stood on the bank of the river, watching the activity in the water.

"Dad, what's going on? Why are you out here?" Frank asked him. Fenton looked at his sons in surprise and started to reply but was interrupted by the sound of a truck. The Hardys turned as two headlights bounced in the air madly as the tow truck drove over humps and through dips.

Soon the truck had turned around and backed down to the water. Several members of the construction and rescue crews took waterproof flashlights and began diving. "I've got it." One of them shouted a couple of minutes later.

The driver released the hook on the back of his truck, and a second crew member walked it down to the diver. He once again went under water and came up a few seconds later.

"You're good to go!" He shouted.

The driver hit a lever on his truck and the line to which the hook was connected began winding. Frank and Joe watched in fascination as a car began to materialize out of the murky depth.

"Dad, it can't be..." Joe began

"Let's hope not." Fenton interrupted.

A moment later it was no longer deniable. The number 5970 was neatly displayed across a yellow bumper. As if that weren't enough proof, the trunk door was opened and bent to the side, revealing a bicycle. It was the missing cab they had been looking for.

Once it was out of the water, a member of the rescue squad went up to it and used a special tool to shatter the windshield. The sound of a roar was heard as water rushed out of the interior. He then opened the door to allow the act to occur more quickly.

As soon as the bank ceased to be anything but a sloppy mess, the squad member took a flashlight and peered inside.

His next words caused the Hardys to tense involuntarily.

"We've got a body in here!"


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: The following chapter was written by fellow fan fiction writer Dawn Foster-Moore, and while I have tweaked the writing slightly and had offered her an outline to work from, the final result is still 95% hers.:_

Boys, stay here!"

"But dad..." Joe started to protest.

"No buts. I won't have you witnessing this." Fenton commanded, his voice raised slightly and his face leaving the teenagers under no illusion that his words were the law. "Now do as I say," he emphasized, laying a hand on each of his son's shoulders. Ashen faced, he returned to the stricken taxi.

Frank and Joe glanced at one another, unable to collectively escape the irony of the their father's fears and protectiveness. If Fenton had been aware of their work with the Network, he would also be aware that they had already witnessed much more horrifying sites than that of a drowned human. Yet they were also somewhat relieved that they weren't allowed to go near the cab. This may not be just any drowned human...it may be their cousin.

They watched anxiously as their father approached the cab, his steps labored, nervous of what was waiting for him in the car. He steeled himself, dipped and took a look inside the vehicle. Looking away quickly, he turned to a police officer who'd opened the car door and said something quietly that neither Frank nor Joe could hear. Finally, he turned and headed back to the boys.

"Is it?..." asked Frank hesitantly.

"No, it's not Michelle," he assured them.

Joe let out the breath he'd been holding and draped an arm around Frank's shoulder. "Who is it then?" he asked.

"We can't be 100% certain at this stage because the corpse is bloated out of recognition. But it's a man so at a guess, probably the cab driver."

"If that's true then it's a blow to our case. We were hoping to question him on Michele's kidnapping. Without his help, we're almost back at square one." Frank pointed out.

"You're right, Frank," agreed Fenton. "Did you find out anything from Kacey Arnold?"

"Yes we did. She remembered a vehicle that appeared to be broken down on the road outside the prison on the day Richard Herringbone escaped from Fishkill. Although she didn't get a tag number, she gave us a fair description - a red compact that had a bumper sticker which read..." Frank pulled his notebook out and read from it, 'Miami or Bust' - a blue sticker."

"That was observant of her." Fenton muttered while scribbling in his own notebook. "I'll call the prison later to see if they have any information on this vehicle."

Frank jutted his chin toward the taxicab. "So what now?"

"I'm going to stay here with the police and assist them with their investigation - hopefully pick up a few leads." Fenton announced.

"What about us?"

"The best thing you boys can do right now is go home before your mother and aunt start worrying. Besides, considering Albert's arrival, I think it'd be a good idea if one of us was around."

"So you want us to go home and do nothing?" Joe asked, surprised.

"Exactly."

Joe pursed his lips, his face taking on a rebellious expression. Clenching his fists, he opened his mouth to argue and Fenton raised an eyebrow challengingly. Before any sound came out of Joe's mouth, however, his brother's fingers curled around his wrist and elbow. "Come on bro, let's go," Frank insisted and started leading him away from his father towards the boat.

Joe felt his face burning with indignation as Fenton returned to the crime scene. He turned on his brother angrily. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Just shut up and get in," Frank hissed back, clambering over the side of the boat, "I've got an idea."

They were piloted back to the other shore and handed their life vests back to the officer on duty before climbing back into their van. Joe took the driver's position and turned to his brother, "So, what's your idea?" he snapped, gripping the steering wheel, "And unless you want to be half of an argument, it had better _not_ involve going home."

"Relax, it doesn't. I have a theory that the cab may have entered the water further upstream." Joe looked at him without expression, so Frank pressed on, "if you remember, Officer Terry Bearden said something large hit the bridge and damaged the structure on one side. He thought it was probably a large tree that was swept into the water."

"And you're thinking the 'large' thing that hit the bridge was actually the cab?" Joe finished, finally catching on to his brother's train of thought.

"Bingo."

"Which means, if it _did_ damage the pillar, it floated down the Waldron River a way before it came into contact with the bridge."

Frank smiled and nodded, "the river's been pretty fast moving and swollen, the car might not have been heavy enough to sink immediately to the bottom."

"So what are we sitting here for?" snapped Joe excitedly, turning the key in the ignition, "let's go find where the taxi was pushed into the river!"

Joe backed the van up and did a 180-degree u-turn - seemingly, to head homewards. He drove some little while on the road, but once they were out of their father's site, he carefully maneuvered the black vehicle onto the grassy bank. Frank wound his window down and leaned his head and shoulders out, peering down the sharp incline while ignoring the sharp cold on his face.

"Hold it!" he suddenly ordered to which Joe suddenly stopped. Climbing from the van, he scrambling down the riverbank and crouched to inspect the soft ground beneath him.

"Anything?" asked Joe impatiently.

"Negative. They're tire marks alright, but they don't lead to the water." He climbed back into the van and they set off once again.

A few minutes later, he was asking his brother to stop again. This time Joe joined him and together they both scaled the muddy bank to have a look at the ruts in the soft ground, sure enough, they were tire tracks.

Joe returned to their van and retrieved a flashlight. Snapping it on, he illuminated the markings and he and Frank followed them.

As they moved closer to the river while following the tracks, the ground became softer and muddier where rainwater had run down the bank and mixed with the soil. They saw that footprints were starting to appear, along with the wheel markings. It also became apparent the impression of the wheels went right up to the river edge and then dropped away into the water. Once they were about ten feet from the water's edge, the boys became aware that the mud was so thick that they were unable to venture any closer without sinking up to their ankles.

"These must be the right tracks," Joe muttered and looked closer.

"Yep, and you can tell whoever made these footprints was pushing the car," Frank surmised. Pointing, he explained: "See how the footprints are deeper than the ones we are leaving - the toe further in the mud than the heel?"

Joe nodded his agreement and shone the flashlight closer, "_Oakleys_ boots," he remarked, recognizing the company's oak leaf emblem, which had been pressed into the mud via the shoe sole.

"_Oakleys_ are a popular boot, very common." Frank remarked and pointed further along, "he really put his back into it here, the footprint's are turned sideways, as though he put his shoulder against the back of the cab." He put his foot next to one of the prints, "Bigger shoe size than I take too, must be a big man."

"Look at this," Joe said, motioning for his brother to stoop down beside him. They both put their heads together, "It looks like something shaped like a star must have punctured an indentation into the tire at some time."

"You're right, although I don't see how this can help us - unless we find these tracks somewhere else of course," said Frank thoughtfully.

"We can use the mark to at least positively identify it was the cab that was here," Joe corrected him.

Frank nodded in agreement and allowed his eyes to wandered further along the bank. He spotted something white, standing out in the moonlight. "What's that?" he wondered aloud.

Taking the flashlight from his brother, he stepped forwards towards the mystery item. Standing above, he saw it was a white plastic, credit card sized tag, with a brown electronic strip embossed on one side. Through the clip in the top was threaded a metal neck chain. He picked it up by the chain, spun it, and saw there was a hand-written, four-digit number gummed on with the aid of clear sticky tape.

"What is it?" Joe asked, coming to stand at his shoulder.

"Looks like a security tag, or door entry card."

"What too?"

Frank turned it over again and inspected it closely. Turning it side on, he shone the light so it bounced off at an angle - the surface was completely smooth. He repeated the exercise on the reverse. "Your guess is as good as mine," he muttered with a shrug, "but this hasn't been lying here long - there's no mud stuck to it, and the chain isn't yet rusted. If this was dropped by whoever kidnapped Michelle, this may be the key to where she's being held."

Joe delved into his pocket and retracted a plain, resealable, plastic bag. "We should take this home and check it for fingerprints." Opening the bag, he offered it towards his brother who dropped the card in, leaving the chain to hang outside the bag to prevent it rubbing against the plastic. Re-sealing it, Joe pushed it into his inside pocket.

Frank continued to move upriver playing the flashlight backwards and forwards and Joe went back to the tire tracks. He crouched down to take another look at the star shaped mark in order to memorize the pattern, but couldn't make out details in the swiftly failing light. He stood and turned towards the van, his intention to fetch the other flashlight - just in time to see his pride and joy starting to slide sideways in the mud.

"FRANK!" he bellowed, bound forward, yanked the driver's door open and leaped gracefully into the front seat - the entire time the van continued to lurch steadily towards the river's edge and fast moving water. Frank looked up sharply, stunned by Joe's shouting.

"Are you crazy? Get out of the van!" Frank, shouted out, horrified, "...it's going into the river!"

"Stop panicking and help me! I've still got time to jump if I need to," Joe snapped, gunning the engine, "There's no way I'm gonna let her go without a fight." He put the van into gear and hit the accelerator.

For a second, Joe believed success was within his grasp as the van jerked forward, but then the vehicle froze, slipped and continued moving sideways with the wheels spinning uselessly. Looking out the window, he could see the dirty brown water swirling, inviting the van into its murky depths.

The back doors were suddenly flung open and Frank jumped aboard, "you're insane - do you know that?" he said and leaned over the front seat to get at the rubber matting.

"Why are _you_ here then?" Joe shot back, smiling grimly, now rocking the vehicle backwards and forwards, which at least helped to slow the van's descent.

"Brotherly love." Frank smirked and was gone again.

He went around the side and shoved the mats under one of the back wheels, their van now only feet from the edge. He could feel his feet sinking into the mud. "Try and pull her free Joe," he shouted above both the roaring engine and river, as he stepped to one side.

Under Joe's control, the van moved forward a couple of feet and then stuck fast again.

Frank trudged forward to reposition the matting and then moved quickly to the rear to brace his shoulder against the back doors and add leverage. At this angle, he could feel the vehicle slipping and now spinning to the right. Cupping his hands over his mouth, he bellowed, "one last try Joe, if this fails, abandon ship!"

"Roger!"

Joe pressed down on the gas and Frank pushed with all his might, bracing his feet in the mud. Suddenly the van lurched away, taking the older Hardy brother completely by surprise. He stepped back, realized his feet were stuck in the sludge and started pinwheeling his arms for balance. The van shot forward with force and ejected the rubber matting like a bullet from under the rear wheel. It flew into the air and struck Frank squarely in the chest. With a loud "Whoa!" he toppled flat on his back into the gloop.

Joe whooped excitedly, unaware yet of his brother's plight, and slowly drove the van up onto the safety of the upper bank - this time further away from the slope. Jumping out, he pounded on the van, congratulating himself jubilantly and turned with his hands on his hips, intending to shake hands with his brother as soon as he'd climbed up beside him. Joe's mouth started to droop at the site of his brother down the riverbank, still in the mud. "What happened to you?"

"Don't just stand there," Frank growled, his hair and clothing sodden and filthy, "help me out of here!" He'd managed to upright himself again, but his feet were stuck fast, and, try as he might, he just couldn't pull them free.

Joe started making his way the slope, sucking his on his lips in a vain attempt to keep evidence of his amusement at bay. Frank had stopped struggling and waited for his brother's assistance.

"Don't you dare laugh!"

"Not a chance bro - would I laugh at you?"

Pulling into the darkened driveway, back on Elm & High, Frank was growing increasingly tired of his sibling's chuckling. Shooting a look out the corner of his eye, he yet again caught Joe grinning down at the newspaper he'd been forced to sit on. To add insult to injury he was also starting to itch as the mud dried to his skin.

Suddenly, the front door of the house burst open and Fenton Hardy was striding down the driveway toward them, the outside light casting angry shadows on his scowling, thunder filled features.

"Uh oh," Joe muttered, his grin disappearing, "I'd forgotten dad had told us to come home."

"Me too." Frank sighed loudly and reached for the door, "he looks pretty mad too. We'd better face the music," he grumbled and stepped out onto the gravel.

Fenton stopped short and put his hands on his hips, the site of his elder son covered in drying and cracking mud obviously having knocked him off stride. His brow furrowed and he sucked in his lips, unknowingly imitating the same face Joe had tired to hide earlier. Joe came around the back of the van behind Frank looking sheepish - until, of course, he saw his father's face.

Forcing his face straight, Fenton said, "I was about to give you both a lecture, but I think you've probably already been punished by the looks of you and the van. I hope that whatever you boys got in to was worth it"

Joe then pulled out the plastic bag housing the card and handed it wordlessly to his father.

"What's this?"

Frank and Joe explained what they had uncovered, mentioning the footprints and the star shaped indentation in the tire print. Joe leaned on the van and drew Fenton a quick map so he could locate the site the next day. Finally, being a good storyteller, Joe had his father reduced to hysterics upon recanted the tale of how his brother ended up covered in the black gunk.

"It's not THAT funny," Frank muttered sulkily.

Fenton coughed and changed the subject. "You should dust this for fingerprints," he advised, holding up the card.

"That was the general plan," Frank grumbled, absently picking dried mud off his arm.

Fenton nodded approvingly, ignoring his son's sarcasm. "Go and get yourselves cleaned up, and then come to the study, I've got some developments to report."

As the boys passed the family room, Frank was relieved to note that Gertrude and Albert were deep in conversation on the sofa and failed to notice them. While he was glad the two were talking, his was especially pleased that the converation had kept him from having to face the wrath of his Aunt's sharp tongue as to the state he was in.

His mother came out of the kitchen and stood in the doorway with a cloth in her hand and her mouth hanging open in bemusement. She shook her head and went back to what she was doing, no longer surprised by the goings-on in her household.

An hour later and they were knocking on their father's study door. He called for them to come in and they sat down in the chairs facing his desk.

"THERE you are Frank! I didn't recognize you without the mud," joked his father.

Frank stretched out his long legs and cocked an eyebrow, "Have your laugh," he replied with a wave of his hand, "but I've now got the softest skin this side of the Mississippi!"

Fenton conceded defeat with a laugh.

"You had something to tell us dad?" Frank prodded.

"Yes I do," said Fenton, getting down to business, "I had an informative telephone conversation with Warden Smith. Apparently the car Ms Arnold described to you is owned by the prison guard who was sacked earlier on in the week."

"The guy who was focusing the camera on her while the escape was happening?" asked Frank, a surprised expression on his face.

"The very same," Fenton confirmed. "Of course, we'd considered it a fluke that he was focusing on Ms Arnold rather than doing his job, but this fact is now coupled with the knowledge that his car wasn't in its allotted space in the prison's parking lot. These incidences grouped together open up a whole bag-load of questions that require clarification. Those coincidences we simply can't ignore, so the police are bringing him in for questioning. We should know more tomorrow."

Joe nodded. "I checked the card for fingerprints while Frank was showering and managed to lift a couple of latents."

"Good going Joe," Frank congratulated him.

"Yes, excellent work," Fenton agreed, causing Joe's cheeks to redden. "Why don't you boys head down to the station tomorrow and ask Con to run the prints? We may get a hit."

"Sure." They both nodded.

"So, that brings us to the taxi cab..." Frank prompted his father.

"Yes..." Fenton agreed awkwardly and then paused and scratched his eyebrow. Finally, he continued, in a quieter tone this time: "The body in the car has been confirmed as the cab drivers."

"He left behind an extended family and this reason alone is enough for us to throw as much effort as possible into catching and bringing Herringbone to justice - putting aside the fact he has your cousin."

Shock forced the two boys into a respectful silence, only ending with Frank standing up and changing the subject completely. "If that's all, I'm going to find something to eat, I'm starving."

Although to the outsider this might have been considered thoughtless, all three of the people in the study understood the need to keep a perspective on the case and not become too emotionally entrenched - bad enough that Michelle, their niece and cousin had been sucked in.

"Me too," Joe concurred and joined his brother at the door. Before he exited he had a thought and turned back to his father, "what's happening with Albert, will he be going home tonight?"

Frank returned upon hearing the question and shut the door again behind him.

"He's staying here. All things considered it seems to dangerous for him to be at home or in a hotel alone. Besides, he wants to behere in case of developments - on the sofa."


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's note: This is the second and final chapter in this story that was penned by Dawn Foster-Moore. I also gave her the outline for this chapter but this time, I have decided not to tweak it. Frank and Joe are going to show quite a bit of their English ancestery this time around! :)_

"Stroke my hair, I'm gonna be famous..." Joe muttered as Frank shook him awake early the next morning. Just before falling asleep the night before, they'd agreed to rise early again in order to get down to business quickly.

"No thanks."

Joe raised his head and peered at his fully dressed and groomed brother though one eye. "Aw geez...morning already?" he groaned.

"You bet. Having a nice dream were we?" Frank asked, amused by Joe's sleep talking.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Come on, up and at 'em - we've got work to do."

Leaving Joe to pull himself together, Frank headed downstairs. He entered the kitchen to find the other members of the household, including Albert, sitting together breakfasting. He noted that Gertrude and he were at one end of the table, picking half-heartedly at their meal. His mother and father at the other end. No one was looking at one another, and no one was communicating. _"Uh oh...Tension City!"_ he thought in bemusement.

Laura arose quickly upon seeing him and pulled a chair out. "Sit down, I've got waffles for you and Joe," she said with a watery smile, obviously glad of the distraction and excuse to leave the table to prepare her son's meal.

"Joe's on his way," he oldest son assured her and slumped down. Fixing his mother's gaze, he raised his eyebrows questioningly and indicated with his eyes toward Gertrude and Albert. Laura shook her head slightly and headed for the waffle maker - subject off limits.

She was in the process of sliding two waffles onto his plate just as Joe tottered sleepy eyed into the kitchen. He stopped short with one hand on the work surface and looked from his Aunt and Albert to their father. The glare his brother shot him stopped him from saying anything. Sitting down next to Frank, he picked up his fork and speared one of Frank's waffles, swiftly stealing it away. He then reached across the table for the syrup.

Albert cleared his throat noisily and everyone looked up expectantly. "I'm unhappy that..." Gertrude looked sharply at him, "I mean _we_ are unhappy at your refusal to tell us what happened yesterday."

Both boys blinked, surprised by his sudden outburst. Obviously something had occurred in the household after they'd retired to bed the previous night.

"We don't want to worry you with the details..." Fenton started, he voice calm.

"...Nevertheless," Albert interrupted firmly, "we would like to know."

Joe suddenly knew what they were talking about and could tell it had also clicked with Frank as his brother was now sitting straighter in his chair.

Laura came tentatively forward from the kitchen counter and sat down silently next to Gertrude and took her hand. Fenton opened his mouth to try and protest, but was again interrupted, this time by his sister. "Fenton, we need to know," Gertrude said firmly and quietly seemingly not to notice Laura's presence, "what we don't need is protecting - we've had enough of that in the past 17 years...for all the good it did us and Michelle..."

"Boys," said Laura to her sons, "can you leave us alone?" she asked.

Fenton nodded his head, "go and see Con Riley, as we discussed yesterday." He stood up, retrieved his wallet and flipped it open, "get yourself something to eat along the way," he added and offered a neatly folded bill to them.

"Don't worry dad, we've got money," Joe muttered waving it away. He got to his feet, pulling Frank up at the same time, secretly glad of the opportunity to high tail it out of there. It appeared that Frank wasn't keen to stay either, as they were outside and opening the van in thirty seconds flat.

"That was weighty," Joe said, "not even my rumbling stomach could keep me in the kitchen today!"

"You're not kidding bro," Frank agreed, taking the driver's seat.

Joe took the last bite of his burger, screwed the paper into a ball and threw it over his shoulder into the back of the van.

"I wish you wouldn't do that!" Frank objected, screwing up his nose in disgust.

Joe sniggered unmoved and climbed out. Together, they walked shoulder to shoulder up the steps to the entrance of the concrete Police HQ building. As they opened the door, they were met by the friendly face of Officer Anderson, who was manning the reception desk.

"Hello boys," she greeted, "here to see Con?" she asked, not missing a trick.

Frank grinned, "we sure are," he agreed, leaning up against the dark wood counter and tapping the file he'd bought along on the highly polished surface.

"Go right on through," she said, winking conspiratorially, "he's in interview room one, catching up on some _paperwork_." She lifted the hatch and both brothers slithered passed.

No one took any notice of the two boys as they strutted through the open plan office, such was the regularity with which they visited the precinct. They passed interview room three (where they could hear voices raised in anger) and two before they were standing in front of room one.

Frank put his hand out to rap on the door, but on a whim, Joe suddenly flung it wide without prior announcement.

Con Riley was leaning back with his feet crossed at the ankles up on the desk and his hands clasped behind his head. He had the chair teetering on two legs and as the door crashed open, he jumped violently and barely stopped the seat from upending before catching his balance. He sat up straight with a look of intense guilt on his face and snatched up his pen. When he realized it was only the Hardys, he relaxed somewhat, placed his hand over his heart and glared at them reproachfully, "Anderson sent you in here didn't she?" he said breathlessly, making it sound more of a statement then a question.

"Yep," said Joe and started to laugh.

"She's dead meat."

"Hard night?"

"Been up for most of the night trying to make sense of the Herringbone case," he explained and rubbed his brittle eyes.

"Well, we may be of some help to you on that score," Frank announced.

"I see...come on in lads, what can I do for you?"

Frank closed the door before answering. "We can trade information."

"What information? Any info I've got has been supplied by the 'Amazing Hardy Trio' - I've nothing new to add."

"When I say 'information', I mean access to your extensive police files."

Con leaned forward, "Whoa there...I can't let you run around this precinct helping yourself to files - the Chief would bust a gut!"

"I agree," said Frank craftily, "but _you_ can."

Riley narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "Okay, what have you got for me?" he asked, his eyes swiveling curiously towards the file in the older brother's hands.

Frank came forward and threw the file down in front of Riley before pulling a chair out for himself. Joe pulled out the other seat, turned it, swung his leg over and sat down. He leant forward with his elbows against the backrest.

Con pulled out the paperwork and reviewed the fingerprints. Included was a photocopy of Joe's map that he'd drawn for his father the previous evening marking out where the car had entered the water. Frank had also sketched a quick picture of the star shaped indentation from the tire track.

Not quite understanding, Riley looked up with his brow furrowed and said, "Explain."

They again outlined what they had found down the riverbank, but this time (much to Frank's relief) omitting the story concerning him falling into the mud.

"Where's the badge?" Con asked, as soon as Joe and Frank were finished.

Frank flushed a little. "It's at home, we didn't want to turn it over to the police yet..."

"...WHAT!" Riley exclaimed. "Don't you realize you could get into a lot of trouble for withholding evidence?"

"Think about it Con, if we hand it straight over to you, and we find the door it opens, we'll have to wade through miles of red tape to get it back..." Frank calmly explained.

"...You'll be the first to know if we find the door it fits." Joe finished, diplomatically.

Riley opened his mouth to protest, but could see the logic of their argument. Instead he slammed his hand down loudly on top of the file and then lifting it, "wait here," he snapped, "I'll see whether these prints turn anything up." He opened the door and turned back for a second before exiting, "you guys'll be the death of me," he grumbled and left.

Ten minutes later, he was back and throwing the file 'Frank style' down in front of them. "We got a match," he stated simply.

Frank and Joe grabbed the file hungrily causing the contents to spill out over the table. Out slipped a mug shot of a woman followed by her rap sheet.

"Elizabeth Collimore..." Frank muttered staring at her photograph. It was a young woman whom he estimated to be around his own age of 18 years or so. Her dark hair was cut short - almost tomboyish, her dark colored eyes glaring sulkily into the camera. She was wearing dungarees with an off-white colored, stained T-shirt beneath.

Joe picked up the other sheet and scanned it, "Convictions for a number of petty burglaries back in the early 90's, one for assault," he looked up at Con, "Anything since?"

"No, she's not been convicted of anything since 1993. She _was_ bought in for questioning a couple of times in '94 for a couple of further burglaries, but no concrete proof was found to link her to either crime. She was never charged with anything further."

Frank narrowed his eyes. Although it was an old photograph, there was something familiar about the young girl looking out at him. "Have you a current address for her?"

"Nope, she left the county some years ago, so we couldn't keep a-track of her."

"And no arrests in any other counties?"

"Not according to the central database, no."

All three of them went silent while they looked at her picture again.

"I wonder what her connection to Herringbone is?" Joe wondered out loud.

"IF there's a connection - it may be coincidental that she dropped it near where the cab was pushed." Frank quickly corrected his brother.

"If that's the case," said Con, "she may have witnessed something."

"True," Frank conceded.

"Which reminds me..." said Con, snapping his fingers, "...the star print definitely came from the cab tire, I had the car looked at over the phone."

"Can we have a copy of these?" Joe asked, holding up the photo and rap sheet.

"I'll put them through the photocopier on your way out," agreed Riley and stood up, effectively bringing the interview to an end.

Frank was folding and shoving the photocopied documents into his pocket as they stepped though the door. The sudden blast of cold caused him to visibly shiver and both brothers pulled the collars up on their jackets.

"What now?" Joe asked, wriggling his cuffs down over his hands for warmth.

"I think we should go home and report our findings to dad," Frank suggested, his voice drifting out in a cloudy mist which circled away into the air. Folding his arms so his hands were trapped beneath his armpits, he moaned, "Is it just me, or is it getting colder?"

"It's not just you, it is," Joe agreed. They walked a few more steps in silence before Joe asked, "do you think they've finished their discussion?" They stopped and looked at one another, Joe's face bore a 'What-do-you-reckon?' expression.

"Dunno - let's head back and play it by ear."

As they drew up outside the house, they were both relieved BUT ALSO disappointed to note their father's car was no longer parked outside. The tense 'discussion' was obviously over BUT they couldn't feedback their findings and seek Fenton's advice. As they approached the door, Laura opened up to let them in.

"Is everything alright now...well...alright as it can be?" Frank asked quietly.

"Yes, your father didn't want to worry them any further by telling Gertrude or Albert about what happened to the cab driver - poor man," their mother explained as she led them inside the house. Laura went on to assure her sons that: "they took the news well. I think they're resigned to the fact that Michelle won't be harmed initially if Herringbone thinks he'll get what he wants. He's still not contacted us, so time still seems to be on our side."

"Where's dad?"

"He's staking out the guard's house who owned the car that was spotted outside the prison. The police tried to bring him in for questioning, but wasn't at home, and didn't return all night. In fact, your father would like you to join him..." both boys turned as one to leave again, "...as soon as you've both had some lunch." She finished hurriedly, luring them back.

Frank and Joe ate a hurried meal, accompanied by the sound of Gertrude's voice berating them for eating so quickly and prophesizing "crippling indigestion" - they were much relieved that their Aunt seemed almost back to her normal self. Not that Albert and their aunt were not worried about their daughter, this was plainly obvious, but they were making the effort to appear calm, collected and in control of their emotions.

The boys were also amazed by the amount of affection Albert and Gertrude were showing one another, even if unwittingly. There were little touches and smiles, and as they moved about the kitchen sharing cooking and washing duties, they kept brushing against one another. This was a side of their aunt neither boy had ever observed before.

Within ten minutes the boys were ready to leave and follow on after their father. Laura handed them instructions their father had provided and they headed out.

Fifteen minutes later they were parking their trusty van half a block away from their meeting place. They alighted and zigzagged in and out of the buildings on foot until they came to Upper North Tower Street. As they turned into the narrow street, they could see their father's car parked at the end. Fenton's head was visible just above the steering wheel and as they drew near they could see him eyeing them in the rear view mirror while he munched lazily on a donut.

"Glad you could make it, boys," he scolded good naturedly as his sons climbed into the back of the car.

Joe leaned forward and took a donut from the brown bag next to Fenton. He took a huge bite, almost taking the whole sweet into his cavernous mouth at once and pointed to the bag with one sugar coated finger as an offering to his older brother. Frank wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

The older hardy brother turned his attention to Fenton, "why aren't the Police staking out his house?" he asked, a little mystified.

"They're couldn't spare the man power, so I volunteered."

"So, does our suspect have a name?"

"Mr. Kenneth Clarke."

"Any sign of him?" Joe asked, showering the car with sugar.

"Not as yet," his father answered. He picked up a brown envelope and shook the sweet dust of it before handing it across to Frank to open.

"So this is our guy?" Frank murmured as he pulled an A5 sized photograph of the ex-prison guard.

"Yes. That's his personnel photograph from the prison. He only began his employment with Trumbull one year ago, so the picture's recent."

"Does he have a history?" Joe enquired.

"No. He wouldn't have been employed by Fishkill if he had any convictions or arrests."

Joe suddenly made a choking noise which was caused by his mouth being full of donut again and he started pointing madly out the front window. Frank and Fenton both looked up to see someone who looked remarkably like the man in the photograph about to put his key into the front door of the house opposite.

Fenton opened his door quickly and stepped out onto the sidewalk, "Mr. Clarke?" he called.

The stocky, bearded, dark haired man looked sharply over his shoulder at Fenton, his hand pausing, holding the key steady.

"We'd like to ask you a couple of questions Mr. Clarke," Fenton continued, taking a step closer to the roadside.

Kenneth Clarke's eyes panned from Mr. Hardy to his two sons who were now exiting the car themselves. He took in the sight of the three large men for a couple more seconds before he suddenly put his head down and sprinted away in the opposite direction, his trench coat flapping noisily behind him.

Fenton shouted out in surprise, "hey!" and took off in pursuit. Quickly, Joe and Frank followed on behind their father, not bothering to lock the car.

The man was already a quarter of a block away and still on the other side of the busy moving road from them. Fenton waited for a break in the traffic and leapt into the fray. Due to the traffic being so congested he was forced to weave in and out of vehicles to get to the other side.

Joe made the same maneuver, not wanting to lose his father on the other side of the street. He could hear Frank behind him but didn't look back. Fenton made it to the other side of the road and bolted away with Joe just a few seconds behind.

Frank had only reached half way across as Joe hit the sidewalk, he'd been held up when a car suddenly shot across his path before he could get much further than a couple of steps across.

He placed his palms onto the roof of the vehicle, scooted sideways and ran around the rear of the plain sedan car, for a second locking eyes with a small child who was eyeballing him through the back window, a dog sitting at her side looking equally as curious.

In retrospect, something in his head told him he'd made a mistake taking his eyes from the road for that second to wink cheekily at the child. His attention was taken so completely he almost didn't even register the loud squealing of brakes being applied brusquely until he felt himself being hit in the hip. Not yet feeling any pain, only surprise, he instead saw the opened mouthed face of a driver as he went tumbling over a red bonnet before being thrown unceremoniously off.

He knew he was somersaulting when he passed the same shop window display twice, it was exhibiting camping equipment: "Wow, this is just like being a stuntman in the films," was his final thought, before he landed on the asphalt - hard!


	10. Chapter 10

"FRANK!" Joe shouted. He didn't notice that his exclamation brought the attention of his father who abandoned the pursuit of Mr. Clarke in favor of his son's well being. Both ran back to Frank where each grabbed under one of his arms, hauling him out of harm's way as a second car plowed into the back of the car that had hit him.

"Frank, are you alright?" His father asked with urgency and concern, cradling his son's head in his hands away from the cold sidewalk cement. Frank's only responses were the tears that formed against his tightly shut eyes and an increase to his moaning.

"I'm calling an ambulance." Joe announced, whipping a cell phone out of his pocket.

"I'll...be...alright." Frank managed in a voice that made Joe cringe with empathy for his pain.

"Too late." Joe replied as the 911 operator came on the line. Joe quickly requested an ambulance for his brother and officers to deal with the accident.

By the time the ambulance arrived Frank had calmed down considerably and was even arguing being taken to the hospital. Only at the insistence of his family did he agree to be loaded onto the ambulance and checked out in the emergency room.

Joe slid into the passenger's seat of the ambulance and rode to the hospital with Frank. Now that it appeared that his son was not as seriously injured as he had originally suspected, Fenton remained behind to verify the well being of the occupants of the two cars involved in the accident and to explain to Con Riley how it had occurred.

"Don't worry, Fenton. I'll call the Chief. I'm sure that he will have no problem dispatching patrol officers to keep a lookout for Clarke, considering the circumstances."

Fenton thanked the officer and walked back to his car. After confirming that the doors of the boys' van were locked, he slid into his driver's seat of his car and set out for the hospital.

"You're a very lucky young man." Fenton heard someone say as he neared the room the emergency room nurse had directed him to. As he rounded the corner and got his first view inside, he was delighted to see Frank sitting up in bed, he and Joe intently listening to the doctor who was viewing x-rays on a lighted pane.

"Dad!" Joe said, upon noticing Fenton's presence.

The doctor turned and peered at Fenton over his glasses. He then smiled warmly and stuck his hand out. "Mr. Hardy, I'm Dr. Sellers."

"Is my son going to make it?" Fenton asked, returning the doctor's handshake and winking at Frank, who had improved dramatically in the short time.

"Oh, I think so, so long as he looks both ways before crossing the street." The doctor replied with a twinkle in his eye. He looked back at the x-rays and the Hardys' gazes instinctively followed. "No broken bones or internal injuries. He's got a nice bump on the head that he won't forget anytime soon, and a severely bruised hip that will take a couple of weeks to heal."

"When can I go home, doctor?" Frank asked.

"I don't see any reason why you're family can't take you home now." Dr. Sellers replied, making some marks on Frank's medical chart. After a few moments he tore a paper away from a prescription pad and handed it to Fenton. "He gets two of these every eight hours for the pain in his hip as needed. An over the counter pain remedy will work fine for the headaches. I'd advise you to keep an eye on him from time to time tonight just to be cautious, but I really don't think anything will result from that head injury. If he goes 12 hours without any adverse symptoms, you can consider him in the clear."

The doctor then excused himself, asking the trio to wait there. A few moments later he returned with a cane. "I think you'll find this useful over the next few days, young man."

He handed the cane to Frank who looked at it in distaste. "I don't think this will be necessary." He replied, stepping down off of the bed. He immediately yelped in pain and narrowly avoided falling thanks to the preventative measures of his brother.

The doctor simply smiled and said nothing as he handed the cane to Frank again. This time the boy meekly took them and began practicing as he took several slow, concentrated steps.

"I bet Callie would find this _really_ attractive." Frank said sarcastically, staring at his third leg as he sat in the back of his father's car.

"She probably would, especially if you wore a tuxedo while carrying it." Joe replied, half joking, half serious. They would never know because Callie was finishing up week three of an eight-week stay in Georgia at her Aunt's farm, helping her uncle sort through her things. Joe and Callie had never exactly been best friends, but when he thought about her commitment to and feelings for his brother, he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. His memory of his last conversation with Vanessa soon had him sulking and wondering where Cory Sutton was that evening.

"Well, it looks like things aren't wrapped up yet." Fenton replied as he neared the Clarke residence once again. Con Riley was gesturing for Kenneth Clarke to get into the back seat of his patrol car.

"Well, he's not under arrest, but we are taking him in for questioning." Con replied to Fenton's inquiries of the situation. "If you'd like you can meet us in the interrogation room at the station in 10 minutes."

Fenton agreed to the meeting and turned to his youngest son. "Joe, I want you to take your brother home and let him get some rest. Stop at the pharmacy on the way." He handed Joe the prescription and a check card.

"Dad, I'm fine, but Michelle may not be. I'll rest when she's found. I want to hear what Clarke has to say."

Fenton studied Frank's features and decided against arguing. He couldn't very well scold his son for refusing to rest when he himself had enjoyed the luxury of 4 hours of sleep in the last two nights. "I guess it won't hurt anything for you to sit there and listen. You can come only under the condition that you accept the full wrath from your mother for not taking better care of that leg."

Frank accepted the challenge before hobbling over to his van. He gingerly climbed up into the passenger's seat while Joe took the wheel.

About thirty minutes later the Hardys found themselves seated in the interrogation room as Kenneth Clarke was led inside. The swarm of detectives and officers included Collig and Riley.

"What's your name?" The interrogating detective-who's name was John Reynolds- asked as another detective pushed the record button on the system.

Kenneth rolled his eyes. "Kenneth Clarke."

"Kenneth, I would like to get right to the point. Why did you run from these gentlemen?" John asked, motioning to the Hardy's.

"Why were they chasing me?" Kenneth replied.

John looked at the floor and let out an obviously frustrating sigh. "Kenneth, things could go a lot quicker for all of us if you could just answer the question."

Kenneth looked at John and sighed, throwing his hands up in the air. "To be quite honest, I thought they worked for Cliff Connor. But since I ended up here, I doubt that's the case."

"Cliff Conner?" John asked.

"I guess you could call him a loan shark. My wife and I ran into some financial trouble and in desperation I tried out one of those online casinos. I kept playing and just knew I was going to hit it big, but I maxed out our cards and lost everything. When that happened, I became even more desperate and that's when a friend of mine directed me to Conner. I felt it was a good solution, I could slowly pay off the debt and my wife would never know what happened. But the payments kept getting higher and it was getting harder to make them. Finally Conner had people stalking me, trying anything to get the money, but it just isn't there. Eventually my wife found out what was going on and left me. We've been separated every since-not that there was much holding us together to start with."

The group looked at each other. "It sounds like you've got a big problem, Mr. Clarke." Chief Collig said.

"You bet I do." Kenneth replied, running a hand over his super short hair and nervously drinking from his coffee cup. "So now that you know why I ran, suppose you tell me what it is that you want from me."

"We would like to ask you some questions about your work at the Fishkill Correctional Facility."

"Not much to tell." Kenneth sipped some more coffee and rubbed his neck. "I wasn't there very long. I worked as a guard, ran surveillance, eventually got fired."

"For surveying a young woman in the parking lot during the escape of an inmate." John continued.

Kenneth looked at John. Frank had a hard time reading the expression on his face. It was certainly one of anger, but it seemed to go much deeper than over a lost job.

"Rich Herringbone. A self-centered arrogant..." Kenneth refused to continue and instead worked hard to set his coffee cup on the table properly in light of the fact that he was shaking uncontrollably in anger. "I guess you want to know if I saw anything...no I didn't. That's what I told the warden, and that's what I'm telling you."

"Just out of curiosity, Mr. Clarke, why did you work at Fishkill? That's a three hour drive from here."

"But only an hour and a half from New York City. That's where I was living up until a couple of weeks ago. When you as deep in debt as I am, that's not far to drive for twenty bucks an hour."

"But your car, why was it parked outside the facility?"

"Broke down." Kenneth gruffly replied. I found out the hard way that no matter how bad off you are, motor oil is a worthwhile investment."

The group all appeared disappointed that no more information could be obtained on the whereabouts of Herringbone. Clarke noticed this as he surveyed the room.

"Look, I'm sorry I can't provide more information. I'll be the first one to admit I wasn't doing the job I was hired for. But since you forced me to come here and waste a whole afternoon, the least you can do is tell me why a small town like Bayport is so interested in this information about Herringbone."

Collig looked at Fenton, who shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't argue with the man. The chief introduced Clarke to the Hardys and explained the situation surrounding Michelle's kidnapping as best he could while omitting what would have been considered the most confidental information. Clarke sat and listened with renewed interest.

A short while later after Clarke had been dismissed Frank and Joe were walking out of police headquarters, leaving their father behind to talk with Chief Collig. Just as they were about to reach their van they were interrupted by a 'pssssssst'.

They turned and noticed a man lurking in the doorway of the church next door. He removed his sunglasses to reveal his identity. It was Kenneth Clarke!

"Meet me in front of the old theater down the street!" He said as quietly as possible. Without waiting for a response, he turned and disappeared around the corner.

Frank and Joe got into the van and turned in the direction of the theater.

"What do you think is going on Frank?" Joe asked.

"I don't know, but the guy is practically a stranger to us. We'd better be on guard." Frank replied.

Soon Frank and Joe arrived at the old theater. There were several people strolling the sidewalks at a couple of nearby restaurants. Frank rolled down the window as they spotted Clark.

"Park around back in the alley, I'll let you in the back door." Clark announced when they pulled up beside him. Then for the second time he pulled the disappearing act.

Joe cautiously pulled into the alley as Frank rolled up his window. "I'll go in and see what he wants. That leg of yours could get us in trouble if we get in a jam." Joe announced.

"No way. You're not going in by yourself, little brother." Frank replied with determination. Joe could see there was no use in arguing with him.

Frank whipped out his cell phone and punched in Chet's number. He quickly explained to his friend where he and Joe were going to be just in case something should happen. "If we don't call you back in ten minutes, send someone after us." Frank instructed him.

As soon as they exited the van they found Kenneth at the back door motioning them inside. They entered cautiously, half expecting to see help waiting in the shadows or to feel a gun jabbing their ribs.

Once inside, Kenneth flicked a switch and the room was dimly lit by a fading bulb. He began removing his sunglasses and trench coat, giving Frank more of a sense of ease with the situation.

"What can we do for you, Mr. Clarke?" Frank asked.

"Well..." Kenneth replied, rubbing his hands together. "Is your family offering a reward for the recovery of your cousin?"

"Why do you ask? Do you know something that you haven't told the police?" Joe asked, suddenly becoming angry.

"No, but my wife might have some information." Kenneth replied.

"You're wife? Who is your wife?" Frank asked.

"You've seen her." Kenneth replied. "On the surveillance tapes. She's a reporter for the Tribune. Kacey Arnold."


	11. Chapter 11

Kacey _Arnold_ is your wife?" Joe asked.

Kenneth nodded. "Arnold is her maiden name as well as her pen name. She kept it when we got married because she was already using it when writing for the Tribune."

"Why do you think that she might have information to lead us to our cousin?" Frank asked.

"You mean the warden didn't tell you? She interviewed Rich Herringbone on several occasions."

Joe looked excited for just an instant before the feeling disappeared. "Unfortunately, Mr. Clarke, experience has shown us that the chances of Herringbone having told your wife about a pre-meditated kidnapping are slim to none."

"But surely he may have told her something about where he used to live, the town he was born in or where he grew up. Perhaps he took your cousin to one of those places." Kenneth suggested.

Frank shook his head. "The police already have all of that information and are checking into those leads now. Joe's right. It's unlikely that Kacey knows anything."

Kenneth stared at them with a look of frustration. He then turned his back to them and folded his arms. "Well aren't you going to at least ask her what she found out in the interview? I thought detectives always follow up on any leads they are given."

Frank and Joe glanced at each other quizzically, each thinking the same thought. "Mr. Clarke, excuse us for prying, but you seem a little too interested in tracking down this Herringbone yourself." Frank suggested.

"Yes, and when his name came up during questioning, you did get rather upset." Joe reminded him.

The stern look faded from Kenneth's face and he shoved his hands into his pants pocket. He paced around the room a bit before turning back to the boys. Taking a deep breath, he began.

"Your instincts haven't lied to you. I didn't exactly give the police all of the information I have." As Joe and Frank perked up, Kenneth began to tell the rest of his story. "I went to work at Fishkill to pay off my debts. That part is true enough. But I could have had a dozen jobs in New York City that would have probably paid more. About four weeks before I went to work at the prison, Kacey began to make coming home at 2 and 3 a.m. a nightly habit. This was the same person who had, up until that point, always insisted that she was out of the office by 6."

"Go on." Frank prompted him.

"She explained that it was because of this documentary she was working on. As you can imagine we ended up having a huge fight over it. I couldn't see a news report taking up that much time. I began to suspect an affair. So one morning when she left, I followed her. I was relieved that she actually went to the prison. I sat outside in a friend's car all day that day, waiting to see when she would come out. She finally emerged at 9:00 p.m."

"That must be some story. It certainly sounds like she's putting enough time into it." Joe replied.

"That's what I thought, too." Kenneth confirmed. "She explained that she was writing an article each day about a different prisoner. I'm normally not much of a reader but I decided that these must be some great articles that she is putting out, as much time as she spent doing interviews. So one day I grabbed a copy of the paper to take a look at her current article. It was on spring fashion trends."

There was a pause before Joe asked, "What is a prisoner going to know-or say-about spring fashion trends?"

"About as much as one would know about the best Broadway musicals-or the best caterers to choose from in New York-or the most popular museums to visit. She wasn't writing about prisoners, her articles covered entertainment and culture!"

"What did you do, Mr. Clarke?" Frank asked.

"First, I called the editor of the newspaper. He confirmed that Kacey had been assigned to write a piece about the prisoners, but that the story was printed weeks before. He also mentioned how much he missed her since she had gone to part-time work."

Frank was beginning to catch on. "So you found it really strange that a part-time worker had a ten to fifteen hour shift every day."

"Exactly." Kenneth replied. "When Kacey got home that night, I asked her about her work. She described her workday as usual, one full of prison interviews and long commutes. That confirmed that something was up, but I just went along with everything that night. The next two days, I borrowed my buddy's car again and followed her. Both days she did go to the prison where she remained the entire days. It was during the time in the car those days that I came up with a plan to work at the prison in order to find out for myself why she was there."

"Weren't you concerned that she would find out that you were there?" Frank asked.

Kenneth nodded his head. "Concerned that she would see me there yes, but I wasn't concerned that she would realize my own long hours away from home. She was spending far too much time on her own interests to keep up with me. Too make a long story short, I got the job at the prison in video surveillance, watched my wife's every move while she was there, and noticed she was spending an awful lot of time with Herringbone-and enough interaction between them to realize a relationship had developed. When I confronted Herringbone about her one day, he didn't realize who I was, and began telling me that they had developed feelings for one another."

Kenneth hung his head. "It's hard for me to believe that Kacey would be an accomplice to a kidnapping, but the more I think about it, the more suspicious it seems." He looked back up at the boys. "She kicked me out of our apartment on Dogwood Circle in New York just 3 days before Herringbone escaped. It looks as if she knew what was going to happen. I love my wife, but I'm afraid that if I give too much information to the authorities, they might have her arrested, but at the same time I'm too afraid for her safety to just let things play out without stepping in."

Joe looked over at Frank. A confirming glance was Frank's agreement to share further evidence with Kenneth. Joe took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and showed it to Clarke. "Mr. Clarke, does this mean anything to you?"

Kenneth stared at the sketch of the Oakley boot print. "Looks like an Oakley. Pretty popular brand of boot. I know a lot of people who have them."

"Including your wife?" Joe prompted.

"Yes, I remember spending an entire day in the city looking for her boots. Not many retailers carry her size, a five."

The statement immediately dismissed the footprint as having belonged to Kacey. Joe then produced the second piece of evidence-the keycard.

They didn't have to ask any questions. Kenneth's face immediately fell when he saw it. "Where did you get this?" He asked.

"Why don't you tell us what this key unlocks first?" Frank suggested, the look on Kenneth's face all too clear that he recognized the card.

"It looks just like the one that unlocks my apartment-the one in New York."

Fenton Hardy, having finished his talk with the Chief arrived home to find an argument going on. "I won't let you do it!" Gertrude insisted.

"What's going on?" Fenton asked, almost bumping his sister with the door. Albert and Gertrude wore matching expressions of anger, Gertrude standing just in front of the door while Albert stood with his coat on, waiting for her to move out of his way.

"Fenton, I've been hiding for seventeen years, for the sole purpose of protecting myself and my daughter. Now my daughter..."

"OUR daughter." Gertrude emphasized.

Albert glanced at her before continuing. "...is in danger, and it is obvious that until I come out of hiding and face Herringbone, she is going to stay in danger."

With that Albert attempted to wind his way around Gertrude once again before being stopped by Fenton this time. "Albert, we will find her. Just give us a little more time. It's not going to do the boys and me any good to have to look for you too, or worse yet, for you to end up dead. If that happens, Herringbone will have no reason not to kill Michelle too.

Albert absorbed this new information before throwing his hands up in the air. "I'm sorry but it is so frustrating to just sit around and do nothing!" With that he sat down on the sofa and rubbed his face with his hands. As Gertrude sat down to console him the telephone rang. Fenton picked it up.

"Dad! I'm glad you're home. I think we may have a significant lead." Fenton listened with interest as Frank relayed all the information to him that had been exchanged in their conversation with Clarke. "Kenneth is going to the apartment with me and Joe now." He finished.

"Not alone. If what Clarke is saying is true then there is a very real possibility that Herringbone- and Michelle- may be there. Where are you now?...Okay just sit tight, I'll meet you in 5 minutes."

"What's happening?" Albert insisted as the conversation ended. Fenton brought Michelle's parents up to date and explained their next move. "I'm coming with you." Albert announced.

"Considering that Michelle may be there, that might not be a bad idea." Fenton confirmed. As she watched her brother and her husband rush out the door, Gertrude folded her hands in silent hope.

The drive to New York City had afforded everyone enough time to be clear on the details. Once they arrived at Dogwood Circle, the plan went into place. They had decided that the best way to gain access to the apartment was for Kenneth to make Kacey believe that he was there to reconcile with her. Albert and Fenton were staying behind in the van to listen to the events through the hidden microphone under Kenneth's shirt, while Frank and Joe stood nearby with a two-way radio to their Dad, ready to come to Kenneth's aide if needed.

"Okay, he's ringing the doorbell." Fenton relayed to his sons as he listened to the sounds from Kenneth's microphone. After a few moments of silence, Kenneth knocked on the door. Fenton and Albert heard what sounded like a muffled struggle. "Kacey?" Kenneth yelled. Fenton and Albert listened as it sounded like Kenneth was trying to break down the door.

"Boys, you may want to get in there and see what's going on." Fenton instructed them. He watched as Frank and Joe rushed for the main entrance to the apartments, all the time listening as Kenneth continued to bash the door.

"What's going on?" Fenton heard Frank ask as they neared Kenneth.

"Listen." Kenneth replied. Fenton couldn't make out what they were hearing but he decided it must be significant when Frank and Joe joined Kenneth in breaking down the door.

"What's happening boys?" Fenton asked into the two-way radio, panic seeping into his voice.

His only response was the sound of the door giving way. "This place is a disaster." He heard Kenneth say. "Watch out, all the furniture has been turned over."

Fenton and Albert listened to the sounds of breaking glass and crumpling paper as the trio was obviously walking through a mess. They then heard the sound of an interior door being opened.

"Boys, answer me!" Fenton insisted.

The only response Fenton got was a gasp, followed by a gunshot.

But the last thing he heard was the most chilling of all.

It was Joe, screaming Frank's name.


	12. Chapter 12

Upon hearing his youngest son, Fenton wasted no time abandoning the van. He quickly entered the building with Albert on his heels and was at the door of the apartment in no time.

"Frank? Joe?" Fenton called, panic in his voice.

"Back here, Dad." Joe responded from a rear door.

Fenton and Albert snaked around the overturned furniture and made their way to the back room. Once they arrived, they found Frank sprawled on the floor with Joe bent over him.

"Frank!" Fenton exclaimed, bending down next to Joe and whipping out his cell phone. He was on the verge of calling 911 when Frank reached up and placed his hand over the phone.

"I'm okay, Dad." He announced, showing Fenton his torn shirt and scraped arm where the bullet grazed him.

"Are you sure?" Fenton asked, hugging his son in relief. "But who…."

He trailed off as he looked over and noticed a woman in the corner who was broken down in tears. Battered and bruised, she sat on the floor with a gun to her side as Kenneth untied the rope that bound her feet.

"Dad that is Kacey Arnold." Joe said, jutting a chin toward her.

"I'm so sorry." Kacey wept as her feet were finally untied. "I didn't mean too, I was so scared. I thought…..I thought he was coming back."

Fenton would have liked to give the woman a chance to calm down but knew that they couldn't afford the luxury. "Ma'am? Who did this to you?"

"My boyf-" she began then paused, looking at Kenneth. "A man named Rich Herringbone. He was a prisoner I had interviewed at Fishkill Correctional Facility. He had recently escaped and came here…."

"Do you know anything about Michelle Ingraham?" Fenton interrupted, a growing dread telling him that time was of the essence.

"She was just here. Rich, he took her with him." Kacey wept.

Frank and Joe were anxious to hear the whole story, but it would have to wait. "Where were they going?" Frank asked.

"I don't know." Kacey replied. "I wish I did, but I don't. He couldn't have gotten far, though. Michelle was very weak and could barely walk as it was."

"What kind of car did he drive?" Fenton pressed as Albert felt his jaw involuntarily clench.

"He didn't drive a car. He was using cabs." Kacey wailed.

"Perhaps he took your car?" Joe suggested.

Kacey shook her head. "I have a van, but it's in the shop."

Fenton quickly assessed the situation. "Frank, you're hurt. Stay here and get more information from Mrs. Arnold. Joe and I will try to find out what has happened to Michelle. Albert, stay with Frank."

"No Fenton, I am going with you." Albert sternly replied.

"It could get dangerous." Fenton stated quickly.

"Fenton, that's my daughter out there, and it's already dangerous."

Fenton didn't have time to argue. "Just keep your head." He commanded as he dashed out of the apartment with Joe and Albert on his heels. He steered the trio down the hallway when a lady sprinted out of a neighboring apartment and grabbed him! Instinctively, all three went into a protective stance.

"Oh thank goodness. Are you the policeman?" She asked, making assumption of Fenton in his suit and tie.

"No, ma'am. Now if you'll excuse me…" Fenton began.

"Please stay with me until they get here." She pleaded, holding fast to Fenton's jacket. "This awful man just burst into my apartment and stole my Persian rug right off the floor. I'm afraid he'll come back"

Fenton tried to pull away and quickly explain that he had more pressing matters when his cell phone rang. "What now?" Fenton complained whipping the phone out.

"Hardy? Meadows here." Detective Meadows explained. "I have some odd information for you that seems unrelated to the case, but I thought it might be worth mentioning. We just got two separate reports from Dogwood Circle of theft. One was a Persian rug and the second was for a red sedan."

Fenton's eyes lit up. "Meadows, I'll have to explain the details later, but there's a good chance Michelle could be in that sedan. Please put out an APB for it."

"As we speak." Meadows replied. "I'll go out on patrol myself. Good luck, Fenton, and please be careful."

"Thanks." Fenton replied, hanging up. He glanced at Joe and Albert. A familiar sickening feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew that the events over the next hour, while could simply be a continuation of the search, would most likely end in either victory or tragedy.

Soon the trio arrived outside, making their way toward the van. As they neared it, they saw two women consoling a teenage girl.

"Now, now. It's going to be okay." One woman said.

"But I worked all summer to earn the money for that car." The girl wept. "I flipped thousands of burgers, and for what?"

"Excuse me." Joe cut in. "But are you the one that reported the stolen car?"

"Yes." The girl babbled on, telling her story to any sympathetic ear. "I had just returned from the market and was taking some groceries in that my mother had asked I pick up. The market took longer than I expected, making me late for work. I left the car running so that I could just dash outside after I dropped off the groceries and be on my way to work. But when I got outside, a man was driving away in my car."

"Did he have a young woman with him?" Albert asked.

The girl shook her head. "He was the only one in the car."

Fenton was confused when one of the women spoke up. "I'm sure you'll get your car back in one piece, Heather. He probably just wanted to use it to get away with Mrs. Henderson's Persian Rug."

"Persian rug?" Joe pressed.

"Yes. I was standing here in the front yard waiting for my daughter to drop off my grandson. I saw the whole thing." The woman continued. "The man came out carrying a huge rolled up rug. It must have been heavy because he really struggled when he put it in the trunk. Of course, I hadn't ever met Heather until a few moments ago, so I did know it wasn't the man's car until after he'd left and she came back outside and started looking for it."

"Thank you." Joe shouted back as the trio climbed into the van, leaving the dazed women wondering why apparent bystanders were so interested in the theft.

"In the rug." Albert mused as Joe steered the van sharply onto the street.

"He rolled her up in the rug didn't he?"

"It would seem that way." Fenton replied as he dialed Meadows' number.

"She couldn't even walk, and it would be too obvious to carry her out thrown over his shoulder. That's why he stole the rug."

Fenton knew he was probably right but attempted to console Albert. "Don't jump to conclusions. He kidnapped Michelle and he wasn't going to take the chance of anyone seeing her. He could have simply made her hide inside the rug."

"I hope you're right." Albert replied.

"Meadows? Fenton Hardy." Fenton spoke into the phone. "Any word on that sedan yet?"

"It's only been five minutes, Fenton." Detective Meadows replied. "But we have several officers on patrol, including myself."

"Can you give me the license plate number and a description of the car?" Fenton asked. He then took a pen out of the console and began to jot down information. "Please let us know if you hear anything." He said before hanging up again.

"Which way should we go, Dad?" Joe asked.

"Because Herringbone kidnapped Michelle from right in front of our house, it's obvious he knows where we live, and from what had just taken place, it's safe to assume that he knows that we know what is going on. I'm sure he has already concluded that Albert has been in contact with us as well. Since things are starting to get hairy for him, and since his goal is Albert, I would say to get on the interstate and head home. I could be wrong, but if I'm right, there's your mother and Aunt Gertrude to think about."

As Joe guided his van to the interstate and made his way onto the ramp, Fenton dialed the Bayport Police Department. He gave Chief Collig an overview of the unfolding events and asked that he send some officers over to the house.

No sooner had he hung up than the phone rang again. It was Detective Meadows.

"Hardy, great news. The car has been spotted."

"Where?" Fenton asked anxiously."

"On I-87, headed toward Bayport, near exit 53."

"They're near 53." Fenton relayed to the others.

"That's about 10 miles ahead of us." Joe said.

Meadows overheard Joe. "Fenton, I know there's no point in stopping you, but if you see them, keep a respectable distance, at least until we know what our next course of action will be."

Fenton hung up without responding. He looked first at an anxious Albert, and then at his son. He then looked at Joe's right foot.

"I can't go much faster, Dad." Joe replied. Fenton looked at the speedometer and was surprised to see that the speedometer was already hovering just past a hundred miles per hour.

"Keep it up." Fenton ordered.

Joe allowed himself a slight smile. The race was on!


	13. Chapter 13

Although they had just entered interstate traffic, Joe couldn't help but allow his eyes to dart right and left as he searched for a flash of red that might indicate they had caught up to the sedan that Herringbone was racing madly toward Bayport.

"I can't believe someone would be crazy enough to seek revenge all these years later." Albert announced as he fidgeted nervously, not only for the situation with his daughter but for the high rate of speed at which Joe was driving.

"He's had plenty of time to sit in jail and stew." Fenton replied, shifting in his seat with his own nervousness as Joe weaved in and out of traffic. "Besides, Herringbone never was known to use much sanity while his father was in office, let alone after he was jailed. Unfortunately this stunt is not that uncommon. The boys and I could write a book about all the thugs we've put away who are bent on revenge against us."

"I don't know how you do it, Fenton." Albert replied. "I mean, that's exactly why I agreed to be entered into the Witness Protection Program in the first place, to avoid situations like this. My only job all these years has been to protect Michelle. I thought I was doing a good job by not telling her about Caroline, er…Gertrude….." He continued, still getting used to the idea of calling her Gertrude as everyone else did. "…..being her mother, but I guess I would have been better off not saying anything at all….about any of you. Then maybe she wouldn't have shown up on your doorstep looking for the answers I refused to share with her. But I wanted her to know something about her family, even if she didn't realize it really was her family she was learning about."

"Don't blame yourself, Albert." Fenton assured him. "You and Michelle have been on your own for seventeen years now. No one could have expected you to keep her under a rock much longer than that. Because Herringbone was unwilling to let the matter drop, it was only a matter of time before we found ourselves in this situation."

"Dad! I see a patrol car up ahead with the lights flashing. Do you think it may have caught up with the sedan?"

"I'll phone Meadows for an update. He'll know." Fenton replied, whipping out his cell phone and hitting the appropriate button to speed dial his old co-worker.

"You're apparently just behind me." Meadows confirmed for him, announcing that he was riding along with an officer who was driving the patrol car Joe had spotted. "According to the chopper, Herringbone is about four miles ahead of us."

Instinctively Fenton looked up toward the sky and spotted a police helicopter following the route of the highway. "How long until you think you'll catch up?"

"A while." Meadows replied simply. "Herringbone is….and out…...about 140….."

"Meadows? Meadows you're breaking up." Fenton replied, wondering if his voice were any clearer to Meadows than what he heard on his end.

After a few more seconds of trying to reestablish a connection, Fenton ended the call. "Meadows is in the car up ahead and it sounds like Herringbone is about four miles ahead of him. They have a chopper in the air with his sites on him so at least it's unlikely he's going to make a clean getaway. We're in an area with bad reception so that's all I could get."

"So I guess the best thing we can do is keep up with Meadows until we can communicate again." Joe assumed.

Fenton's reply was interrupted when his phone rang again. "It's Meadows calling back." Fenton announced. "Hello?"

"Fenton…lost…to see what…back."

" I can't understand what you're saying." Fenton confirmed as he continued to catch a stray word here and there as Meadows spoke.

Finally Fenton gave up and ended the call once again. "I don't know what's going on. Just do your best to catch up to them, Joe."

"Already on it, Dad." Joe replied, hitting his emergency flashers in an attempt to coax the much slower speed-limit abiders out of his way.

The three men spent tense moments in silence as Joe tried to maneuver in and out of traffic as best as he could. At least the flashers seemed to help some motorists realize that a true emergency might at hand and they graciously moved out of the way. Either that or they were afraid of being killed when they saw Joe's speed.

With the heavy traffic, it was hard to keep up with Meadows. Semi trailers blocked Joe's view on several occasions and each time they topped a new hill, he was forced to determine where the officers had gone. After they had topped a fourth hill, it was as if Meadows and his assistant had vanished.

"I'll try the phone again." Fenton announced, wondering as he dialed how even police officers could distance themselves from Joe at the rate of speed he was traveling.

"Dad! There they are!" Joe suddenly exclaimed in surprise, looking in his rearview mirror and seeing blue flashing lights coming up quick…..with the red sedan right in front of them!

"How'd they get behind us? I thought they were long gone."

"I don't know." Fenton replied, ending the call before it was made. "But I'm sure Meadows will fill us in.

"I can't believe the maniac is going that fast with my daughter bound in the trunk of his car!" Albert muttered. "If he doesn't kill me first I may be tempted to kill him."

"And it doesn't look like he's going to slow down." Joe replied, seeing Herringbone increase his speed as more patrol cars came up from behind to join Meadows in his pursuit.

"Please make sure they know Michelle is in that trunk!" Albert exclaimed.

"Believe me Albert, they know exactly what is going on." Fenton assured him.

Frustrated at being unable to communicate, Fenton had to force himself to think like an officer again in the hopes of getting on the same page as them. He ordered Joe to keep up with the party, but to move over to the side as far as possible. Only when the police had room to surround the car would one of them have the chance to fire a pot shot and flatten a tire, hopefully bringing an end to the chase.

As Fenton expected, this was exactly the scenario that was carried out. But instead of the flat tire stopping Herringbone in his tracks, it only slowed him a bit. The sedan continued down the interstate on three good tires and a rim that was throwing sparks out in every direction as it met concrete.

More pot shots were fired, bringing panic to Albert each time as he concerned himself with the officers' marksmanship skills. But fortunately each shot hit its mark, finally bringing the car to a stop on a side of a bridge.

Joe came to a screeching halt as did the officers who were operating the patrol cars. But before anyone could do anything Herringbone jumped out of the car and ran over to the side of the bridge, hopped up on the railing, and put a gun under his chin.

"If anyone makes one false move I'll kill myself, I swear!" He announced as all the officers drew their guns.

In all reality, there wasn't a person there who cared if he carried out his threat. Apparently Herringbone had used some of his time in prison to read up on police procedures. Until they looked in the trunk, none of the officers could honestly say that this was a kidnapping. And because he presented the situation as nothing more than a suicide attempt, they were required to treat it as such. After all, news choppers had now joined the police helicopter in the sky, their cameras trained on the situation and prepared to print any wrongdoing on the part of the policeman in the early editions of their respective publications.

"What did we miss?" Fenton asked as Meadows joined him, referring to the broken up conversation that had been attempted over the cell phone and the fact that they had somehow bypassed the sedan.

"Herringbone topped a hill and managed to slip into a roadside rest area before we realized it." Meadows explained. By the time the chopper got word to us, we were a half-mile past him and had to double back on the next exit ramp. We made it to the rest area just as he was getting back on the highway.

"What exactly was he doing at the rest area?" Albert jumped in.

Meadows looked at Albert. "Hello again, Mr. Hall. It's been a long time."

"Although my days of hiding are over, I will remain Mr. Ingraham." Albert replied. "Now what happened?"

"That is undetermined. The foliage at the rest area was so thick that our chopper personnel were unable to determine what took place. Whatever it was, it didn't take long. We're pretty sure he knew he was in trouble at that point, but we don't think he realized he was being followed just yet."

"You can just stop right there!" They heard Rich Herringbone exclaim as someone got a little too close for his comfort. Meadows, Fenton, and Albert turned and were surprised….it was Joe who had bravely snuck up on the madman in an attempt to take him out!

"Joe!" Fenton exclaimed in the scolding tone reserved for parents who caught their child in an act they deemed dangerous. What the elder Hardy didn't realize was that this was rather tame compared to what Joe had encountered in his experiences with the Network.

A smile crept onto Herringbone's lips. "Joe. That would be Joseph Hardy, huh? I had a feeling you, your father, and that brother of yours would eventually show up.

Albert had worried for days and had all he could take. "Herringbone!" He shouted out. "Why don't you just go ahead and shoot yourself and make things a whole lot easier for all of us?"

The smile on Herringbone's face got even bigger. "Albert Hall." He grinned. "So the rumors were true. Despite all the evidence showing otherwise, you really were alive all these years, living free and clear while my best years withered away in an eight by ten cell."

"That's where you're wrong Herringbone." Albert quickly corrected him, pulling his shoulder out of Fenton's grasp and walking forward. "We've both been jailed the same amount of time, the only difference was the side of the bars we were on. Your crime was taking a man's life, my crime was testifying so that you were brought to justice. Your punishment meant seeing your family only on the weekends. My punishment meant seeing my family only in photographs."

"Well we all have to live with our mistakes, don't we?" Herringbone sneered.

Albert gave him an evil glare. "I don't know what kind of revenge you think you need to carry out on me, but any misery you may have wanted to inflict on me or my family has been carried out over the last seventeen years. It was carried out when my parents were told I had died, when my wife was told the same. It was carried out every time I looked at my little girl when she asked where her mom was and I had to make up some lame answer. It was carried out every time Christmas came along and there were no grandparents to visit or aunts to bring presents. It was carried out every time she had a birthday and nobody came to her parties because we moved so much to get away from you, because she was the 'new kid' in town and nobody knew her. You want revenge? You want to kill me? Well go ahead, I'm tired of running. But the kid you've got in that trunk, she's done nothing all these years but endure the punishment you've insisted on doling out to me for doing the right thing."

Herringbone became a bit wide eyed when Albert revealed he knew what was going on. Up until that point, all he was sure of was that the police were chasing him for stealing a car and for being an escaped criminal. But then another smile appeared on his face as realization set in. "So you're finally ready, huh?" He asked Albert, the gun still pointed under his own chin as the officers continued to surround him, guns in hand but unable to approach him or the sedan. "You're finally willing to die. You're finally willing to accept the fact that death should have been your fate all those years ago."

Albert simply swallowed and remained silent when Herringbone questioned him. Despite the fact that they were all standing in the middle of a highway with helicopters circling overhead, the silence seemed deafening. Joe and his father looked at each other, both of them uncertain as to what they should do or in what direction the situation would turn. All they knew is that they had to get Michelle out of that car quick. If she wasn't already injured or seriously ill as she lay rolled up inside that rug, she would be soon enough as the temperature of the day had constantly hovered somewhere between unbearable and sweltering.

"Well, Mr. Hall, you might be ready to die, but I can tell you for a fact that I'm no longer interested in killing you."

Albert unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief, but Fenton and Joe had dealt with men such as this before, enough to know that it wasn't time to let their guard down just yet.

"If there is one thing I can thank you for in sending me to prison all those years, it is for the time that I had to study. Not only books, but the human way of life. I got to observe many things, many emotions, many facts on human existence. And do you know what I learned?"

"What's that?" Albert dared to ask.

"That if a person is ready to die, then that means life holds…or can hold…..unbearable circumstances that makes death a welcome retreat.

And, swift as lightning, Herringbone pointed his gun toward the trunk of the sedan….and shot three times!


	14. Chapter 14

Fenton stood dumbstruck for just a few moments. He couldn't be sure which contributed to the pounding of his heart; the fact that Herringbone was sending a storm of bullets into the trunk where his niece Michelle lay, or if it was because his was witnessing his son as he rushed the gunman.

However, having stood on the precariously narrow side of the bridge, the kickbacks from the gun were enough to propel Herringbone over the edge. Joe quickly went from trying to knock the gunman down to reaching for his arms in an attempt to save him from a deadly plunge. But he was too late. As Joe and several officers rushed up to the edge of the bridge and peered over, spotting Herringbone's lifeless body on the river rocks below. It was in that moment that Joe realized that the days Gertrude's husband and daughter would have to hide had hopefully come to an end.

If, he suddenly remembered, Michelle was still alive.

"Get it open. Get the trunk open!"

Fenton shook his head to bring him back to the reality of the situation as Albert rushed toward the bullet battered car Herringbone had stolen. Once there, he spent only seconds trying to manually open the warped trunk before rushing to the driver's seat in search of the keys. Finding them still in the ignition, he tore them out and wasted no time going right back to the trunk. However, the keyhole itself had been destroyed in the gunfire, proving the effort to retrieve the keys had been pointless. Realizing that time was of the essence and going into a bit of a panic, Albert searched around madly for things that could possibly be used to try to pry the trunk open.

As a father Fenton considered the situation from Albert's viewpoint. Sorrowfully he had little hope that Michelle had survived and, imagining how he would feel if he opened that trunk and extracted the lifeless body of one of his own sons, he went into action.

The traffic that had come to a standstill on the interstate just behind the area of the police standoff held every kind of vehicle one could imagine; family cars, semi's and so forth. It didn't take long for Albert to spot a tow truck and request the crowbar he knew the driver was most likely carrying. But as he rushed back to the battered car which Herringbone had driven, Fenton leapt into action and blocked him from approaching it.

"Fenton are you crazy? Get out of my way!" Albert exclaimed, displaying unusual strength as he attempted to shove his brother-in-law aside.

"No Albert, let the police handle it." Fenton insisted, grabbing his arm.

"That's my daughter in there, the one that has been missing for days, the one that crazy madman kidnapped and tortured!" Albert argued even as he struggled.

"I know, I know." Fenton tried to calm him even as he realized that Michelle was most likely in a state that her father didn't need to remember for the rest of his life. "But we need to let the authorities handle things."

"I may have been away for almost eighteen years, but I haven't forgotten how you are, brother-in-law." Albert replied through gritted teeth as he struggled. "I know for a fact if that were Frank or Joe in the trunk, you couldn't do what you are asking me to do."

Fenton didn't bother to disagree. Albert knew him better than he thought. "OK, I'll help you." He replied with a sympathetic smile. He pat Albert a couple of times on the shoulder then together they went to the trunk of the car where Joe met them and began, along with his father, to assist his Uncle Albert.

They spend a few agonizing minutes trying to get the trunk open, with an ambulance arriving in the meantime. As some of the policeman made their way down the embankment to Herringbone's body and the paramedics stood by waiting until the moment they would be of use, the Hardys continued to struggle with the crowbar until they managed to jimmy the lock just right, breaking it free from the frame. After doing so, Albert wasted no time opening the trunk. When he did, he gasped at what he saw.

Inside he found a spare tire, a jack, a windbreaker and some fast food bags.

But there was no Michelle.

Fenton and Joe blinked in surprise. Albert stood dumbstruck, not knowing how to react.

"How…." Albert began, shaking his head in confusion, but he was interrupted.

"Dad!"

Upon hearing that word, Fenton turned in the direction of the sound. His eyes widened in hope as he saw three people slowly snaking their way through the parked cars on the Interstate. His hope then turned to joy when the three people got close enough that he could confirm their identities.

He could see Frank on one side. Considering what was going on around him and remembering the scare with the bullet earlier that evening, Fenton was bursting with relief and pride to see his son healthy and walking. Accompanying Frank was a man Fenton did not recognize, and he had never before laid eyes on the dirty young lady that was being supported between them. But it took only one relieved gasp from Albert and a glimpse of Gertrude's much younger face that made him realize that this had to be…..

"Michelle!" Albert whispered in excitement, as if speaking her name loudly might make the reality around him disappear like a puff of smoke. He didn't know how Frank ended up here, or, more amazingly, how Michelle ended up with him instead of in the trunk of that battered car. But none of it mattered anymore. Giving Fenton's shoulder a squeeze, he ran forward and scooped Michelle up in his arms as if she were still seven years old rather than seventeen.

"Thank God!" Albert said, squeezing her tight. Michelle, with tears in her eyes, returned the hug just as tightly. Fenton, Frank, Joe and the rest all stood around silently for a few moments, allowing the father and daughter a moment to enjoy their reunion.

After what seemed like a long time, Albert finally set her on her feet again, although he quickly discovered that she was weak and would need assistance to remain standing.

"I would ask if you're alright but I can see that you're not." Albert announced with worry.

"It's not as bad as it looks, Dad." Michelle assured him. "I've hurt my leg but for the most part, I think I'm just weak from lack of sleep and food."

"That's to be decided by these gentlemen here." Meadows announced, stepping up to the group with the paramedics close behind. "A lot of people have devoted the last couple of hours to your rescue, young lady. I think it would do a lot for their morale if you agreed to be taken to the hospital and checked over."

"Yes, baby. I have to insist that you do that, even if it is only to make your old man feel better." Albert smiled at her. "We have a lot of questions for you, but they can wait until later."

"Alright Dad." Michelle smiled back, giving him another hug. "I'll go now. Even I have to admit a little bed rest would probably do me some good."

"Well don't think that I'm letting you back out of my sight that easily! You go on and I'll be there in a moment." He told her, placing her into the capable hands of the paramedics and giving them a nod that told them not to leave without him. Once Michelle was settled comfortably in the ambulance, Albert turned back to the Hardys and demonstrated a happy sigh of relief.

"Man, what a difference five minutes can make!" Joe commented, bringing nods of agreement from those around him.

"I think the thing that's got me the most curious right now is how you ended up here, Frank." Fenton said.

"That's got me curious too, but not as much as finding out how it was that you ended up with Michelle." Albert added.

"And who is this gentleman with you?" Detective Meadows wanted to know.

Frank held up his hands to stop the string of questions. "I'll start with him." Frank began, nodding toward the man who accompanied him. "Dad, Joe, Detective Meadows, this is Andy McGill."

"Glad to know you got your little girl back." The middle aged, graying man announced as he shook their hands, nodding toward Albert.

"Thank you." Albert said in a monotone voice as he looked with concentration at the man who seemed familiar to him.

"Andy McGill?" Detective Meadows asked, realization coming to his face. "If I remember correctly, you're one of Herringbone's cronies."

Andy arched an eyebrow. "That's a bit of an old fashioned term. But to answer your question, yes….I used to be."

Meadows wasted no time as he whipped out his gun. "Then perhaps you would like to explain how you ended up with the Hall girl."

"Ingraham." Albert gently reminded him.

"Dad, please tell your friend to put that thing away. There's a logical explanation for all of this, and a valid reason for him being here."

"Gary….." Fenton simply said, nodding for Meadows to get rid of the gun, which he did.

Once the gun was out of sight, Frank continued. "I was back at the Arnold apartment, getting my wound dressed by Kenneth as I asked Kacey questions. In the middle of my questioning, the phone rang and Kacey took the call. It was Mr. McGill on the line."

"And how long have you known Ms. Arnold, Mr. McGill?" Meadows asked.

"I don't." Andy admitted. "Perhaps I should go back a couple of days."

"That might help." Fenton replied.

Andy looked at Detective Meadows. "You were right when you recognized me as having been associated with Rich in the past. I did spend a few years in prison. I was considered his accomplice because I was with him when he murdered the mayor. But in my defense, I never knew that was his plan. That night, he told us that he was just going to kidnap the mayor, rough him up a bit. Of course, I remember both you and Mr. Hall from the trial. I'm sure you've heard my story before."

As both Albert and Detective Meadows nodded, Andy continued. "Anyway, I was found guilty and sentenced to 15 years in prison. I was practically a kid when I went in, but while I was there I did a lot of growing up. After seven years I received an early parole for good behavior. When I was released my only interest was trying to put my past behind me and making a life for myself. Eventually I found a job, got married and bought a house. Today I'm a proud father to two girls."

"Sounds like you did a good job of turning your life around." Joe commented.

Andy nodded. "Anyway life got so good that for the most part I didn't think much more about that terrible night or about Rich Herringbone. Imagine my surprise when he called me out of the blue about a week ago and told me he got out of jail."

"What did the two of you talk about?" Fenton asked.

Andy shrugged. "Nothing really. He told me he had a girl, Kasey, and that he was staying at her place. He then gave me her number and told me to give him a call sometime. I don't know why I wrote it down, I had no interest in having anything to do with him anymore."

"What led you to call him today?" Fenton then asked.

"That's where it gets interesting." Frank spoke up. "It seems that not long after Herringbone took off from the apartment in the stolen car, he became aware of the fact he was being chased. Naturally he assumed that if he did get caught, Michelle would be recovered and that would thwart whatever plan he had in mind for Uncle Albert."

"So he called me from his cell phone." Andy then continued. "And told me what was going on. He asked that I meet him at the rest stop so that he could hand Michelle off to me. I suppose in his twisted mind he thought that I was still his accomplice and would go along with it….and that as long as Michelle remained missing he would still have some control over the situation even if he were caught."

Frank then continued the explanation. "In the midst of the conversation, the signal was lost. Andy was using a phone that didn't have caller I.D. and, not knowing Herringbone's cell number, he then called Kacey to ask for the number. When Kacey blurted out how crazy Herringbone had been acting, he quickly told her of Herringbone's plan, and how he was going to go out to the rest stop and rescue Michelle, while simply allowing Herringbone to think he was assisting him."

"All I had to do is think about my own daughters to realize how I needed to handle the situation." Andy explained. And fortunately the rest stop was only five minutes from my house, so I was able to get there in no time. Rich literally stopped long enough to hand Michelle, carpet and all, off to me before he left again. Of course, once he was gone, I simply unrolled the rug and did what I could to get Michelle something to drink and cooled down."

"And once I realized what was going on, I ran outside to flag down a cab." Frank said. "Fortunately a policewoman was outside, taking down information from the girl that had her car stolen by Herringbone. I convinced her to take me to the rest area as quickly as possible. By the time I got there, Andy was attending to Michelle and Herringbone was long gone."

Meadows smirked. "And I didn't even go into the rest area because by the time we approached it, we saw the car Herringbone was using leaving the area on the entrance ramp."

"By the time we were able to get Michelle cooled off and settled, the policewoman heard on her scanner about the standoff taking place. Knowing that you, Dad, and Joe would be here, we decided to come as well. Unfortunately as we neared the area the traffic was so backed up that the only way to get to you was to leave the police car and come on foot." Frank explained

"I'm sorry, sir, but we can't continue to wait." A paramedic, having just approached the group, announced to Albert. "We have to get the ambulance back to the hospital so it's available in case someone else needs it."

"I'm coming." Albert told him before he turned back to the group one more time. Detective Meadows and Mr. McGill, thank you for all you've done. Fenton, Frank and Joe, I owe you all. You'll never know what you've done for me, for Michelle." He smiled. "I hope you will forgive me for taking some time to figure out how to repay the people who have given you back your life."

"Well I know a great way you can start." Fenton replied.

"How's that?"

"How about introducing us to the newest member of our family?"

"I will….finally." Albert nodded. "But first, go home and get Gertrude, meet me at the hospital. I want her introduction to be the first."


	15. Chapter 15

About an hour later Joe was impatiently pacing back and forth.

"Joe, why don't you take a seat? I'm afraid you're wearing a path in the linoleum." Fenton suggested as he watched his son in amusement.

"I'm sorry, Dad." Joe apologized, slipping into a seat next to his father and brother in the waiting area near Michelle's room. "I can't help it. I'm just excited, I guess."

"Well it's certainly not every day that we welcome new additions to the family." Fenton had to admit. "I really didn't expect to be doing this until the day one of you boys brought a girlfriend home and announced your engagement."

Frank then spoke up. "Dad, did I overhear you correctly when you spoke to Uncle Albert in the lobby earlier? You invited him and Michelle to move into the house with us?"

Fenton nodded. "It had already been decided that at some point after Michelle was found, Gertrude and Albert would renew their wedding vows. As far as the house, it may be a bit of a tight squeeze, but I think we can manage. Naturally Albert will be in Gertrude's room, and we'll just have to lose our guest room to Michelle. Of course I haven't made my sister aware of the offer yet, and it's all going to depend on her decision. Now that she will have her own family, she may want her own home to go along with it."

"And let's not forget that Michelle isn't even aware she's related to any of us yet." Frank reminded them all. "She may need some time to absorb all the information."

"Well, that's all about to change in the next ten minutes or so. We're just waiting on your Aunt Gertrude to show up now."

"What's taking her so long anyway?" Joe asked, looking impatiently at the clock on his cell phone.

Fenton glanced at his watch. "That's what I'm beginning to wonder. I'll step into the lobby and give her a call. I think the reception is better in there." With that, Fenton rose and walked away, dialing Gertrude's cell number all the while.

As he walked he passed a stranger in the hall. At least the middle aged man was a stranger to him. To his sons, he was more than familiar.

"Well well well, if it isn't the ever elusive Hardy Brothers." Edward Gray…otherwise known as The Gray Man, their exclusive contact with the agency known as The Network… announced as the boys stood to greet him. "If you were to answer an encrypted message from time to time, I might not have to fly halfway across the country and track you down at hospitals where new family members rest after having been kidnapped."

Joe nodded and smirked. "I see you've had no problem keeping up with our itinerary."

Edward nodded. "It will probably come as no surprise that I have been following your activities for the past few days. I thought of coming to assist you but when it comes to family, I can understand as well as anyone that you probably wanted to handle this one on your own."

"You thought right." Frank replied, to which Joe nodded in agreement. "Fortunately, it looks as if everything has turned out just as we had hoped."

Edward nodded again. "I took the liberty of checking on Herringbone's old followers, and I've come to the conclusion, as have those who are closest to the investigation, that Albert no longer has any need to be in the witness protection program. They've all either passed away, remain in jail and have had no contact with Herringbone in years, or they're like Andy McGill, they've moved on with their lives."

Joe spoke up. "That's all good to know, but I'm curious. Since we never read that encrypted message and you've obviously taken great pangs to come see us in person, what exactly did it say?"

As Edward opened his mouth to speak, Frank waved his hand. "Uh Joe, I don't know about you but personally, I need a few days to recoup before I go running off on some wild goose chase of another case."

Edward laughed. "Well, you may end up on a wild goose chase, Frank, but hopefully it will involve nothing more than chasing after the fairer sex." With that, he handed Frank a card.

"What's this?" Frank asked even as he opened the flap of the blue envelope.

"Well if you had managed to read the encrypted message, you would have seen that I requested your presence in Los Angeles." Edward replied. "What you wouldn't have known, until you got there, is that you would have been attending the Network's annual detective's banquet. Congratulations boys. You were both recipients of this year's Young Investigator's Award, which is handed out annually by the Network."

"Really?" Joe asked.

"And this is our prize?" Frank asked.

"You're correct."

As Joe watched his brother extract the contents of the envelope, a huge smile appeared on his face. "Frank! You're holding four tickets to Grand Cayman!"

"This is fantastic!" Frank admitted. "But why four?"

Edward shrugged. "I'm sure that the Network naturally assumed you would want to bring friends along. I'm just sorry you couldn't be at the reception to receive them yourselves."

At hearing footsteps rounding the corner, the trio turned and saw Fenton returning, along with a worried yet excited Gertrude and Laura in tow. "Looks like our time's up for now." Edward confirmed. "But I'll hang around town for awhile. Perhaps we can talk later this evening."

"That sounds fine, Mr. Gray." Frank replied, holding up the tickets. "And thanks."

"You're welcome." Edward replied, giving Frank a couple of pats on the shoulder before he made his way back down the hall, once again passing Fenton.

"Frank I can't believe it. We're going to the Cayman Islands! I can't tell you how ready I am for a good long vacation." Joe grinned.

"Well that's fine but let's not interrupt Aunt Gertrude's moment." Frank replied, jamming the tickets back into the envelope. "Here, put these in your back pocket for now and we'll worry about the trip later."

As Joe pushed the envelope into his pocket, his dad, mother and aunt approached them.

"There's her room, Gert." Fenton announced, motioning toward Michelle's door.

"Oh Fenton, I'm so nervous! I can't believe this moment is here." Gertrude admitted, her hands visibly shaking as she took a tissue from her purse and dabbed her neck.

"Gertrude, will you please calm down? Michelle is going to love you." Laura tried to assure her as she took the tissue out of her sister-in-law's hand and stuck it back in her purse.

"I hope so." Gertrude simply replied.

"Aunt Gertrude, I know so." Frank spoke up. "Look at me and Joe. We couldn't love you any more if you were our own mother."

Gertrude visibly relaxed, somewhat, as a smile appeared on her face. As she hugged Frank, Albert stepped out of Michelle's room.

Gertrude immediately ended the hug. "Oh Albert, I don't know if I'm ready for this!" Gertrude replied, quickly smoothing her hair and adjusting her outfit.

"Well you have a few more minutes to get ready. She was complaining about the hospital gown so I went out and bought her a nice one and now the nurse is helping her shower and change."

As the adults continued to talk back and forth about the anticipation of Michelle meeting Gertrude face to face for the first time, Frank jabbed Joe in the arm. "Let's head down to the gift shop and get a little something for Michelle. It might be a good ice breaker for when she and Gertrude are finally in the same room."

Ten minutes later, Frank and Joe were back in front of Michelle's room. By that time she had finished changing and was back in bed. The boys were happy to see that by now, Gertrude appeared more relaxed. However, rather that seeming excited, she now appeared in shock.

"She's ready." The nurse announced, exciting the room.

"Come on Gertrude, it's going to be fine." Albert said, pulling on his wife's arm as he opened the door to Michelle's room. Although she hesitated, Gertrude finally made herself walk forward, followed by Fenton, Laura, Frank and Joe.


	16. Chapter 16

"Can I open my eyes yet?"

"Just a minute." Albert replied.

Michelle let out a mock sigh of frustration and playfully kept her hands over her eyes, as her father had requested before he stepped out of the room to collect Gertrude.

Once all the Hardys were inside the room, Albert took Gertrude by the shoulders, positioning her directly at the side of Michelle's bed, closest to her. Frank and Joe, who were standing on the other side of the bed opposite their aunt, were amused at her mannerism. Although they could see a warm smile on her face and the adoring look of a mother as she laid eyes on her child for the first time, it was somewhat refreshing to see that their aunt, the bold , take charge seemingly fearless woman they had grown up under, did indeed have a soft side.

"Okay, you can open them now."

Michelle took her hands from her eyes and looked around the room. Grinning, she threw her arms in her lap and gave Albert an amused look of disbelief. "Really, dad. Like I couldn't possibly know who would be here to see me. I mean, we know so many people around here."

Albert chuckled and looked at Fenton. "Well, I see her ordeal has done nothing to squelch her winning sarcasm."

"I'd say it's her age." Fenton chuckled knowingly, throwing a glance in the direction of his youngest.

Michelle then laughed and looked at Fenton. "Thank you so much for coming to see me, Mr. Hardy. I hope you realize I'm just teasing dad. You know, his whole 'close your eyes now, there's someone to see you' bit." Michelle continued, placing her hands over her eyes and wiggling her head from side side as she repeated what Albert had said. "I mean, who else would be here, over a hundred miles from home? Not that we know that many people back home, to tell you the truth."

Fenton smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better since I got that big cheeseburger a little while ago." Michelle admitted, patting her stomach. Joe smiled, approving of her menu selection.

"Well I know you had to be hungry, sweetheart, but I assumed the doctor would have wanted you to start out with something a little lighter." Albert replied.

"Maybe, but I don't see why it mattered. Other than being famished and exhausted, I'm only a little battered and bruised."

"And without the ability to walk." Her father reminded her.

"I don't think jello would have affected a sprained ankle either way." Michelle smiled. "At least that's what I managed to convince that cute orderly."

Frank then leaned over toward Joe and whispered. "And I thought we'd need an icebreaker."

Joe chucked, seeing himself in Michelle more and more. "Well you know how people like Michelle and I are, Frank. We just walk into a room and it lights up."

As Frank smirked, Michelle looked at them. "What are you guys whispering about?"

"Probably the fact that there are people in this room you haven't been introduced to yet." Laura jumped in, extending her hand. "Hi Michelle. I'm Laura Hardy."

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Hardy." Michelle replied. "But there was no need to identify yourself. It only took one glance for me to realize you had to be Joe's mother." She chuckled. "Just like Mr. Hardy can't deny Frank."

Laura smiled. "And this…" She continued, pushing Gertrude toward the bed a little more. "Is my sister-in-law, Fenton's sister, Gertrude Hardy."

"Miss Hardy…." Michelle replied thoughtfully, never realizing how Gertrude gasped as she clasped her daughter's hand for the first time. "I feel like I know you inside and out already. Dad's talked about you, especially, so much over the years." She then pulled Gertrude down so she could whisper to her. "Just between me and you, I've always thought he had a thing for you."

"Isn't that something?" Fenton smiled after a few moments, having overhead the conversation, when Gertrude found herself unable to reply.

Michelle let go of Gertrude's hand and gave her a curious stare for a few moments, confused by her mannerism. Slightly shrugging her shoulders, she then looked around the room. "Well, I must say I'm very happy that you all came to see me. I haven't enjoyed this much company since…..well, I can't remember when. She then turned to Joe with a laugh. "Of course, I'm not surprised to see you again, Joe. Despite the situation I was facing at that taxicab, I seem to remember you were trying to ask me out on a date. I had hoped you'd come by to try it again."

As the elder members of the Hardy family, and Albert, looked up to give Joe a multitude of stern looks, Joe was taken aback. "Well don't look at me that way. I didn't know yet!"

Now it was Joe's turn to be the recipient of Michelle's curious stare. "Didn't know what yet?"

After a few awkward moments, Albert cleared his throat. "Michelle, the Hardys are wonderful people, and I have no doubt they would have came to see you here for the simple fact that you're recouperating. But there's another reason for the visit."

"Really? What is it?"

Frank then spoke up. "I'm sure you heard by now that after you disappeared, Joe and I immediately went to work to find out who had taken you. What you might not realize is that we were also working to find out who your mother was."

Michelle perked up. "Did you find out anything?" She then turned to Fenton. "Oh I assumed you would know something, Mr. Hardy. Dad talked about Miss Hardy here all the time, but he talked about you too, like you were all old friends. I couldn't imagine why he never wanted to visit someone he seemed so fond of, but when I decided to go against him and search for my mother myself, I couldn't think of anyone else other than you that might know something."

Fenton cleared his throat. "Yes Michelle, we found out about your mother."

Michelle became wide eyed and turned to her father. He had kept the facts about her mother from her for so long, she felt awkward pressing for further information while he stood in the room. "Dad?"

"It's okay sweetheart." Albert nodded. "Listen to what Mr. Hardy has to say."

"Can you tell me where she is buried?"

Fenton shook his head. "No."

"You can't?" Michelle replied, disappointed.

"The reason he can't…." Joe spoke up. "…is because she isn't buried."

Michelle looked at Joe wide eyed. "You mean she's alive?"

The only response was a series of heads nodding around the room.

Michelle then jerked her head toward her father. "You told me she was dead!"

Albert held his hands up to calm her. "Michelle there is a good, and logical, explanation for that."

"Which I'm dying to hear." Michelle shot back, hurt by what she saw as Albert's betrayal. "But first I want to know where she is. Is she anywhere close to here?"

"About as close as she can get." Frank offered, unconsciously looking at his aunt.

Michelle followed Frank's gaze until her eyes landed back on Gertrude. She then only looked away from Gertrude long enough to notice that everyone else in the room was looking at her as well.

"Miss Hardy?" She asked, making assumptions based on the fact that all attention was focused on Gertrude. "Can you tell me something about my mother? Do you know her?"

"I..." Gertrude paused, taking a big breath. "I...am your mother."

"You?" Michelle gasped. "But...you're Mr. Hardy's...his sister, is that right?"

Gertrude nodded, a hint of tears in the corners of her eyes.

"You can call me Uncle Fenton." Fenton announced, embracing the shocked girl.

"Uncle Fenton." Michelle repeated, still in shock. "I've never had an uncle before."

"And that makes me your Aunt Laura." Mrs. Hardy added, following Fenton's embrace with one of his own.

"This is not a joke?" Michelle dared to ask. "You really are my aunt and uncle?"

"They are, sweetheart." Albert assured her.

"And Frank and Joe, they're my cousins?"

The boys smiled and nodded. "Guess that puts a damper on our date plans." Joe announced.

Michelle heaved a deep sigh and looked down at her lap, absorbing the information. After a few moments, and on the verge of tears, she reached up and invited Gertrude into an embrace. "I can't believe it." Michelle sobbed, hugging her tightly. "I thought you were dead all these years."

"I love you, Michelle." Gertrude replied with an emotional voice as well. "I've loved you from the moment I've known about you."

Mother and daughter continued to embrace for a few moments, their emotions spilling over into the room. Laura was crying just as hard, if not harder, as they were. Although the guys were doing a better job of keeping their feelings in check, each of them could be seen swiping a corner of an eye with their thumbs, sniffing, and taking deep breaths.

After everyone had calmed down, Michelle felt she had a right to know why she had not been allowed to have a relationship with her mother her entire life. The next thirty minutes in the room were spent with everyone filling in bits and pieces of the information about how Michelle and Albert ended up on their own. By the time Michelle had learned about her parents' secret marriage, her mother's comatose pregnancy and how, unbeknown to her, she had been the target of a murderer practically her entire life, her head was swimming.

"So what now?" Michelle asked.

"Now..." Albert replied, slipping an arm around Gertrude. "...Your mother and I are going to renew our wedding vows and get legally re-registered as a married couple. We're going to be a family, Michelle."

Michelle smiled. "Well it will be the biggest family I've ever had, and for that I'm glad...Mom."

As Gertrude smiled and squeezed her hand, Fenton spoke up. "I'm glad to know you like big families, Michelle, but I hope I can make it a little bigger."

"What do you mean, Fenton?" Gertrude asked, turning to her brother.

Fenton put an arm around his sister's shoulders. "Gert, you've been with us all these years, and we would miss you terribly if you left. And, well, that house at the corner of High and Elm Streets could hold quite a few more people than it presently does."

Gertrude blinked. "Are you saying that you want me, Albert and Michelle to live with you?"

"We all do." Laura assured her as Frank and Joe nodded as well.

"Of course, it's up to the three of you." Fenton replied, looking at the Ingraham family.

"I've already given my okay, if it's what you want, Gertrude."

Gertrude smiled. "How do you feel about it Michelle?"

Michelle shrugged. "I've always wanted a big brother to pick on, but in a pinch, I'll take a couple of cousins instead."

Gertrude then looked back at her brother. "The chance to have my own family without losing the one I already have? I think you know what my answer is!"

With that, Gertrude hugged her brother. As emotions threatened to run high again, Frank decided that it might be a good idea to divert their attention to something else. "Now might be a good time for that icebreaker, Joe." He suggested.

"Here Michelle." Joe announced, bringing Gertrude's attention away from Fenton as he handed his new cousin the gift. "It's a little welcome to the family gift from me and Frank.

Michelle chuckled at the gift. "Hey, I like Snoopy." She announced, admiring the stuffed dog that sported a pair of sunglasses and a blue shirt. "Joe Cool?" She asked in amusement, pointing to the writing on Snoopy's shirt.

"Two guesses on who picked that gift out." Frank announced as Joe grinned in amusement.

"The one Frank picked out is a little more practical, I guess you could say." Joe announced, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket that contained the restaurant gift card his brother had chosen.

Frank's eyes widened as Michelle began to tear into the envelope. "Michelle, I..."

"I don't believe it!" Michelle exclaimed in excitement, looking at Frank in awe. "Oh Frank, I was just thrilled to have a family after all these years, and for you to give me this!"

"Boy she sure gets excited about a gift card." Joe whispered in confusion.

"Look Dad!" Michelle exclaimed, showing the envelope to Albert. "Frank and Joe have given me four tickets to the Grand Cayman Islands!"

"Wow boys, I'm impressed." Albert grinned.

"Me too." Fenton replied.

"But why four?" Gertrude asked.

"Well, umm..." Frank stumbled, as Joe stood there waiting for his brother to figure out a way to redeem their tickets. "I, that is Joe and I, we thought that you and Uncle Albert could use a nice second honeymoon."

As Joe rolled his eyes in exasperation, Gertrude grabbed at the tickets. "Second? We never even got to have a first one!" She laughed. "Oh Albert, we've got to renew our vows as soon as possible. I can't wait to go home and get packed!" She then ran around the bed, practically knocking her brother down in the process as she embraced her nephews. "Thank you Frank! Thank you Joe! This is the nicest gift ever!"

"You're welcome." Both of the boys replied as they patted their aunt on the back, even though Joe had a smirk on his face.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door "Got room for another visitor?" A voice called out.

As the door opened, Michelle smiled. "Nancy!" she exclaimed as the visitor ran to her and embraced her.

The boys were surprised to see a familiar face. "Nancy Drew?" Frank asked.

"You know Nancy?" Michelle asked in amazement as she released her friend.

"We've worked together from time to time." Frank replied.

"Wait, how do you know her?" Joe asked.

"We lived in River Heights for a few years. Nancy and I attended the same school." Michelle replied.

"We were on the same swim team, to be more specific." Nancy emphasized. "And Michelle is being too modest. She is my best friend outside of Bess and George. I was in New York working on a case when I saw the whole story of Herringbone and how he had kidnapped Michelle on the evening news. The moment I did I had to rush straight down here to see if she was okay. Are you?" Nancy asked, turning her attention back to Michelle.

"I'm getting better by the moment." Michelle admitted, explaining to Nancy how she had gained a family, been given a trip, and had received a visit from one of her best friends all in the course of about half an hour.

"That Cayman Islands trip sounds nice." Nancy admitted. "You did good, Frank. I sure wish I had a vacation coming up."

"You do, Nancy!" Michelle exclaimed. "Frank gave us an extra ticket for the trip. Why don't you use it?"

"Gosh, really?" Nancy asked, taking the ticket that Michelle handed to her. She then squealed and hugged Michelle again. "This is fantastic Michelle! We'll get to spend so much time together! Oh I'm going to head straight back into the city and start shopping for a bathing suit!"

As the girls continued their excited chatter, Joe smirked even more. "How do you like that Frank? All the work we've done on this case and all the other cases we've handled this year and Nancy Drew gets to go on our vacation!"

"Well don't blame me, Joe, you're the one who pulled the wrong envelope out of your pocket!"

THE END

(Author's note: Thank you for reading my story. This tale began quite a few years ago on an entirely different website and I'm delighted to have finally found the energy and dedication that was required to finish it. With that said, please remember, fan fiction authors do what they do for the delight of writing and the joy they bring to those who read, nothing more. Therefore I humbly ask that if you have read this story and enjoyed it, to please take a few moments to leave a review. I have wrote many fan fiction stories and I can assure you, if I get a lot of reviews, I get much more excited about writing and I feel I do a better job. I would like to offer further stories of Frank, Joe and Michelle in the future, but only if I know there are people around to read them. Happy reading as you explore other contributions in the world of fanfiction.)


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